"If anyone asks, I'm not here, got it?"

Danny and Tucker watch, perplexed, as Sam hurriedly ducks into the nearest bathroom, looking quite mortified. They share a look and Danny sidles up next to the door, about to ask if anything was wrong when a pair of muscular arms drape themselves over their shoulders and Kwan's head pops up between theirs.

"Hey guy," he greets cheerfully, taking no note of the horrified look on Tucker's face as he prattles on, "Have you seen Sam? I thought I heard her."

Tucker shakes off his feelings of unease and opens his mouth, no doubt to tell Kwan her whereabouts as payback for earlier. He manages to eek out a syllable before Danny jabs him not so nicely in the gut.

"She just left."

"Thanks man." Kwan gratefully pats Danny on the back, striding purposefully down the hall. Once the tail of his letterman jacket disappears around the corner, Tucker turns a weak glare on his best friend.

"Dude."

Danny shrugs helplessly, rapping his knuckles against the bathroom door. It creaks open and Sam's head pokes through, glancing first to the right, then the left. Once positive Kwan is indeed gone does she come out. She smiles appreciatively at Danny then proceeds to send a punch at Tucker's arm.

"Dude!"

"Don't think I don't know what you were going to say."

Tucker grumbles under his breath, hand rubbing at the his sore arm as Danny glances curiously in the direction Kwan had run off in. "What was that about?"

She groans raggedly, running a hand wearily down her face. "He says he wants to be friends."

Tucker stops rubbing in surprise and points a finger down the hall. "That Kwan."

"Yes."

"Football player Kwan."

"Yes," she bites out, clearly irritated.

"He wants to be friends," Tucker asks one final time, sufficiently cowed by the glare Sam gives him.

"For the last time, Tucker, yes, he wants to be friends."

Danny picks up where Tucker leaves off and finally asks, "Why?"

Sam groans again, shoulders sagging and head drooping. "He said ever since he did the Goth slam poetry with me, he felt as though we could be BFFLs, best friends for life."

"Biffles," Tucker provides and Sam just nods.

"Yeah, that."

"But you and Kwan," Danny trails off, still unable to wrap his mind around it.

"Yeah."

"What?"

She raps her knuckles sharply against Tucker's skull. "Tucker. Kwan wants to be my biffle."

"Okay," he backs off. "But this is getting filed under 'Weird Happenings in Amity Park'."

-.-

Kwan glances across the room and lights up when he spots Sam walking through the door with Danny and Tucker. He catches her eyes and mouths, "Be my friend?"

Her brows wrinkle in confusion and her face scrunches up as she's trying to figure out the words. He can see the exact moment she realizes what he's trying to say because she's, quite loudly, declaring, "No."

Dash stops talking to Paulina and sneers at Sam, "Talking to yourself, Manson?"

Kwan bites his lip, stopping himself from jumping to her defense. Even though he really wants to be friends with Sam, he's still ashamed to admit that the status of being popular is what's holding him back from outright asking her. He wants to maintain this level of popularity, and he's afraid of what Paulina, Star, and, most importantly, Dash would do if they found out. They're his friends and he doesn't want to lose them.

She narrows her eyes at him and retorts, "How's your imaginary friend, oh what's her name, Honey, doing? I haven't seen you talking to her in a while. Did she just suddenly disappear into thin air?"

The edge of his lips quirk into a small smile, Dash spluttering incoherently and scowling, and he hides it behind an open book.

-.-

He finds her waiting for Danny and Tucker at their lockers and he strides over purposefully. She glances his way and horror flickers momentarily across her eyes and she's silently begging, hoping, that he's not coming over. A groan falls from her lips as she realizes that, sadly, that's not the case.

"For the last time, Kwan, no."

"But—"

"No. You and me, this, it won't work."

He sighs, lips curling into a somber frown, hands slipping into the pockets of his jackets and he rocks back and forth on his feet. His fingers hit a crumpled scrap of paper that he had shoved into his pocket earlier and he pulls it out, running his eyes over the scrawled text.

"I'd like to perform a haiku for you."

Sam arches an eyebrow. "What?"

"I wrote a haiku and I want to read it to you," he elaborates. Her brows just rise higher towards her hairline and she's completely silent. Kwan isn't too sure if that mean to go on or to stop.

"A haiku."

He nods.

"That you wrote."

He nods again.

She sighs, deep and long, and from the corner of her eye notices Danny and Tucker approaching. She holds up a finger in his face and says, "You have one minute."

He clears his throat, brings the paper up to his face, and reads, "I mean you no harm. I'd just like to be your friend. Please, please, please, please, please."

There's only silence coming from Sam and Kwan waits patiently, albeit nervously, for her reaction. There's slight hesitation this time when she answers.

"No."

-.-

She rolls her eyes at Danny and Tucker's retreating backs as they beeline straight for the food court and turns to face her favorite little bookshop. Giving a contented sigh, she strolls in and heads right for the fantasy section.

Fingers skimming the spines of the books, they stop at a familiar author and hover, momentarily, before plucking it off the shelf. Reading the little blurb on the back, she makes her way over to the small reading corner set up in the back. Dropping into an open beanbag, she cracks open the book and begins the reading.

"Shannon Hale? I didn't think you'd be into her works."

Her eyes peek out above the book and she lets out a low groan at the sight of Kwan standing above her.

"You seem to groan a lot," he notes.

"Just around you. Why are you here?"

Kwan shrugs casually, pulling up the nearby beanbag to settle in front of Sam. She smoothly quirks an eyebrow up at him but doesn't say anything otherwise, eyes flickering back down the book open in her lap. "Hanging out with Dash, Paulina, and Star."

"So?" she prompts.

"I saw Fenton and Foley and figured you'd be around."

"So you just assumed I'd be here."

He shrugs again. "Yeah. Kind of."

"Lucky guess," she mumbles.

Silence falls upon the two of them, Sam slowly immersing herself back into the story and Kwan picking at the loose threads of his pants. His eyes flicker around, unable to settle on anything for too long. He sighs and she ignores him.

He sighs again. She's still ignoring him.

He lets out a long, drawn out sigh.

She slams her book close and glares at him, scowling. "What?"

He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees and his chin on closed fists. "Be my friend?"

Instead of her customary answer—a very blunt and direct rejection—she asks, "Are you willing to risk your friendship with Dash and them?"

Kwan isn't sure.

-.-

After much thought and a night of little to no sleep because of homework, Kwan decides there's really nothing to lose if he does become friends with Sam. Sure, he values his friendship with Dash, and Paulina, and Star, but if they can't deal with the fact that he wants to be friends with Sam, then, well, he's not too sure what they should do.

-.-

The PA system crackles and then there's Kwan's voice filtering in.

"Uh…hello? Is this thing on?"

There's a muffled answer.

"So if the light is on—oh! It's on. Okay, hi."

Danny shoots Sam an amused look and she retaliates with a light glare and motions for him to shush. The PA crackles yet again and screeches, forcing the student body to cover their ears.

"Right. Okay. So, uh, Sam Manson? I hope you're, you know, listening, and not just ignoring me."

She lets her head fall into her hand, completely mortified. People around her are giggling and whispering and she's pretty sure some of them are pointing at her. Danny reaches across the aisle and rubs a soothing hand down her back. She shoots him a grateful smile.

"So, remember that haiku I wrote you a while ago and read to you?"

Danny's giving her this adorably confused look and she mouths, "I'll tell you later. Promise."

"Here's another one."

A pause and then he clears his throat.

"I'd like to ask you, if you would please be my friend. Please, please, please, please, please."

-.-

He's coming out of the principal's office for hijacking the PA room and Dash is there, waiting for him.

"Really, man?"

Kwan nods and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Yeah. I mean, you weren't there and all, but I just think Sam and I could be great friends, given the chance."

Dash remains unconvinced but doesn't pester Kwan about it, changing the subject to football, and for that he's grateful. They just stand there, chatting about the upcoming game and practice, and suddenly Sam's beside them, Danny a little ways from her.

Dash punches him on the shoulder and nods his head towards the gym. "I'll be there if you need me."

"Yeah. Sure."

He waits patiently as Sam regards him coolly, shuffling from foot to foot nervously. His eyes flicker once towards Danny and he seems to get the message, leaving the two alone.

"So," he trails off.

She's still silent and eyeing him.

"I'm sorry. About the PA thing."

"That's fine. You've got guts."

He laughs and her lips twitch into a wry smile. "Nah, not really."

An awkward silence befalls them and neither of them is sure on what to say. Kwan opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and shuts it.

"So. You want to join us at Nasty Burger?"

-.-

"So Kwan, if you don't mind my asking, why do you want to be friends with our Sammy here?"

Kwan leans away from the flying food coming out of Tucker's mouth. Sam rolls her eyes and chucks a couple of napkins at him, smacking him square in the face. "Don't chew and talk at the same time, it's disgusting."

Danny leans across the table, resting his weight onto his elbows. "You know, I've been wondering the same thing."

"I'm not trying to steal her away from you, if that's what you mean."

Danny grins and shakes his head. "I'm not worried, actually. Just genuinely curious."

He shrugs, pushing his tray of fries over to Tucker who just shovels it down. "I don't know. Does there have to be a reason to want to be friends?"

"Popular jocks like you don't want to be friends with losers like us without some ulterior motive."

"I really don't!"

Tucker eyes him distrustfully.

"I gave you my fries, didn't I?" he implores.

Narrowing his eyes, Tucker scrutinizes Kwan's fidgeting form, before declaring, "Welcome to the club."

-.-

He calls up Dash, to tell him that Sam's now his friend. Somewhat.

He's not getting a reaction from him, and Kwan's worried. A shouting Dash is much easier to handle because it just means that he needs to vent and after a while everything's all good again. But a quiet, silent Dash means trouble. A quiet Dash means he's really mad. Kwan's not entirely sure how to handle it.

He just gets a vague response from him and then all he's hearing is dial tone.

-.-

Kwan stares at where he usually sits and is surprised to see that not only is someone else sitting there, but that Dash is allowing it. Exhaling deeply, he strides over to an open seat, ignoring as best he can the inquisitive stares his classmates give him.

"Hey."

His eyes flicker to Sam, giving a strained smile. She returns with one of her own, slipping into the seat beside him.

"He's taking it well."

He lets loose a bitter laugh. "I wouldn't call that well."

Sam angles her head back, taking a good look at Dash. "It could be worse."

"Yeah, he could be beating you up."

Danny's throwing a leg over the chair in front of him, arms crossed and resting on the backrest. Kwan chuckles uneasily.

"Sorry."

Danny waves off his apologies. "Nah. All good. Besides, it's not as though I can't fight back."

He's not sure why Danny's trying to help him feel better, but he appreciates the gesture all the same, and he wants to laugh, to show that yeah, he's totally fine. But he can't.

"I don't know Dash," Sam starts, rolling words around in her mouth, formulating some kind of advice, "but give him time. Either he'll accept the fact that you and I are" she shudders, just a tad, "friends or he won't."

"Yeah."

-.-

In the end, Dash is fine. Although not too happy about it all, he's not ignoring Kwan anymore.

-.-

He never thought being friends would mean being awkward.

They are very clearly polar opposites of each other. Kwan is this happy-go-lucky kind of guy most of the time and Sam's, well, she's not. He enjoys football and loves the sun. Sam would rather stay in a dark, damp room than step foot outside.

He's day and she's night. Simple as that.

They can never seem to get past more than five minutes of conversation, and even then, it's awkward and stilted. They've gone through just about every topic imaginable, from animals to tightrope walking.

The only real interesting conversation they manage to hold is a short debate on whether cats are better than dogs. Needless to say, it gets dropped rather quickly and neither one wins.

-.-

They exchange IM names and phone numbers much to Sam's chagrin.

"Gothic chick. Really," he teases.

She rolls her eyes and shoves him none too lightly. "I could say the same for you. Kwan meister, really? When did you come up with that?"

"That," he puffs arrogantly, "is genius, okay?"

"Sure," she drawls, unimpressed.

-.-

kwanmeister (4:36:47 CST): hi

GothicChick (4:37:55 CST): Uh.

GothicChick (4:38:00 CST): Hi?

kwanmeister (4:38:14 CST): hi

GothicChick (4:38:27 CST): You already said that.

kwanmeister (4:38:46 CST): yeah i know

kwanmeister (4:39:22 CST): i just never thought that it'd be so

kwanmeister (4:39:42 CST): awkward

GothicChick (4:40:44 CST): What, did you think that we'd suddenly fall into an intelligent conversation about how we are going to be the absolute bestest friends?

kwanmeister (4:41:07 CST): not exactly quite like that

kwanmeister (4:41:12 CST): but hey

kwanmeister (4:41:35 CST): at least one thing came out of this

GothicChick (4:41:49 CST): What?

kwanmeister (4:42:18 CST): i confirmed thatyou didn't give me some random im name

GothicChick (4:42:32 CST): But I could have given you any random number.

kwanmeister (4:42:38 CST):

kwanmeister (4:42:51 CST): i'm gonna call you now

-.-

"Are you going to another slam poetry night?"

Her head whips around to stare at him, eyes horrified and wide. "What."

"I've got another poem."

"Does it have anything to do with clouds or football?"

Kwan shakes his head, looping an arm around her shoulder. He pulls her close, sweeping his other hand out in a wide arc, wearing this pleased grin and utters, "Rainbow puppies are the best."

She sucks in a breath, head falling into an open palm upon exhalation and she breathes, "Oh my god, no."

-.-

She ends up caving to him and brings him along to the next Goth slam poetry night, already anticipating disaster.

He's extremely excited, bouncing in his seat, quite the opposite of Sam who's burying her face in her hands and wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

When it's his turn, he clutches his paper to his chest as he bounds up onto the stage and gives her a toothy grin. Clearing his throat, he recites, "Rainbow puppies are the best. They're colorful and fluffy and nice to be with. They're there when you need a friend. They're there to be a friend. Have I mentioned that they are the best?"

He finishes to complete silence and he can see that she has her face buried within the crook of her elbow. Someone in the back of the room starts snapping their fingers, slowly at first, and then another picks up and soon at least half the room is snapping their fingers.

Sam looks up from her elbow, startled at the overwhelming attention his poem is getting. Her eyes flit from audience to Kwan, sighing at the hopeful face he's giving her, joining in on the snapping reluctantly.

-.-

He's trailing after her like a lost puppy but he doesn't care.

"Please?"

"I already told you, no! For the thousandth time, Kwan, no!"

"But I did slam poetry with you!"

She counters easily, "You begged me to bring you."

He gives her that because it's true. "I'll do something for you."

"Like what?"

He falters, racking his bran trying to remember anything about Sam that he can recall and comes up blank. She smirks at his speechlessness.

"Tell you what, go a week being ultra-recyclo vegetarian and then we'll talk," she proposes.

"But then it'll be too late!" He's practically wailing and there are people staring, but he pays them no heed.

"Go a week being ultra-recyclo vegetarian."

-.-

"Hey, this recyclovegetarian thing isn't so bad."

Sam blinks back the shock at his admission and watches him scarf down the rest of his toast.

"I mean, I thought it'd be all gross and stuff, but it's actually pretty good," he mumbles around a mouthful. She rears back away from the spittle flying her way, hands coming up to try and swat them away.

Kwan smiles sheepishly and reaches for a napkin, dabbing at his mouth. "Sorry."

She shakes her head, disbelief clear on her face. The last time she tried to persuade someone to become an ultra-recyclo vegetarian had ended with disastrous results. And now here is someone who actually seems to enjoy it, other than her.

"Would you convert to it for life?"

Kwan takes a moment to consider the option, then shakes his head. "I couldn't give up meat."

Sam sighs. All meat-lovers are the same. But she gives him points for at least trying. But maybe he'll change his mind before the week is over.

-.-

He confirms it that Sam is a fan of anime when he offhandedly makes a reference to Bleach.

"Isn't that from that one show about, what was it, shinigamis?"

He nods enthusiastically, happy to have found someone who shares his interest in anime and manga.

"I didn't really like it."

Kwan splutters indignantly, choking on a bite of tofurkey sandwich. He grabs for his water and gulps down a mouthful to clear his throat. "What? You do not diss Bleach! It is, like, on of the best mangas out there!"

Sam shrugs. "It's not my cup of tea."

"Sure, the art in the beginning is a bit odd, but it's definitely gotten better and—"

She cuts him off mid-tirade. "I'm not talking about the art, Kwan."

He quiets. "Oh."

"The story's just not for me."

"Then what is?"

"Deadman Wonderland."

He snorts, feeling stupid for forgetting about her love of gore. "Of course."

He ponders silently, mentally going through all the manga that he's read and the anime that he's seen and recalls a particular one that she just might enjoy.

-.-

He doesn't forget about the favor she owes him and just tells her that she'll pay her dues one day.

-.-

He's crying like a baby.

He's got a copy of the last volume of Saiyuki Gaiden in hand and a box of tissues next to him, and he's bawling and he can't stop.

"What's wrong with you?"

He looks up, all teary eyed and runny nose, clutching the book pathetically to his chest. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down because he just know that if he tries talking in this state he'll just start crying again. Once he's somewhat positive that he won't turn into a blubbering mess, he picks up the first book and hands it to her.

"You should read this."

She takes it and flips through the first couple of pages to get a sense of the story. She's a little unsure about the art but deems the story interesting enough and settles down next to him to read.

By the time she finishes, she has tears running down her face and there's a couple wads of tissues smeared with eyeliner that has been added to the pile.

-.-

They establish a weekly movie night, taking turns picking out whatever it is they want to watch that particular week.

One week, Sam has him sit through every single Saw movie made. He returns the favor with a Doctor Who marathon. They later agree that anything longer than an hour and more than ten episodes will not be played consecutively.

He thinks it's a good time to bring out Puella Magi Madoka Magica.

-.-

He pops a DVD into the player and grabs the remote, flopping next to Sam as the menu opens. She shifts, curling her feet under her, trying to get more comfortable.

"What are we watching?"

"Puella Magi Madoka Magica."

Her eyes narrow a fraction in suspicion. "It doesn't happen to be about magical girls, does it?"

"Yes it does."

She immediately lunges for the remote, trying to wrestle it out of his hands. "I am not watching some happy little girls go around in dinky little skirts waving wands around!"

"That's not it!" he protests, scrambling to put as much distance between Sam and the remote, one hand placed firmly on her shoulder to keep her away. "Just watch it! You'll love it, I promise!"

"It's about magical girls!"

-.-

Sam stares at the ending credits as they roll across the screen. "Wow."

"Yeah."

"That escalated, way faster than I thought."

"Yeah. There's no going back."

"What are we waiting for? Next episode!"

-.-

The thing about them is that while Kwan is able to make a mean crème brulee, he cannot cook to save his life and even though Sam can make the best shrimp alfredo he's ever tasted, she can barely bake even a simple cookie straight from premade dough.

This doesn't present much of a problem. She cooks him food every once in a while and he returns the favor with a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and the occasional chocolate fudge cake.

-.-

The phone rings once, twice, thrice, before it clicks and Sam picks up.

"What," she spits, out of breath. He can hear shrieking in the background and several loud crashes.

"Is this a bad time?"

"You think?"

Kwan shakes his head, even though he knows Sam can't see it. It doesn't deter him in the least bit. "You think you'd have time to come over after you're done?"

"No promises." There's more muted crashes, very creative curses following shortly after. "Look, I'll call you back."

-.-

He's tossing his clothes around the room, trying to find his ringing phone. His feet get twisted up in a stray shirt and he plunges forward, falling against his bed. Kicking the shirt aside, he runs his hands hurriedly across his bed, hoping to hit a lump that might just end up being his phone.

No such luck. His cursing is starting to become more pronounced and he's almost ready to give up when he spots it sitting innocently on his desk. The ringing stops just as he lunges forward and grabs it, Sam's name flashing across the screen.

He's about to call her back when it rings again and he has it pressed to his ear in a flash. "Hello?"

"Did you misplace your phone?"

"Yes and no," he answers awkwardly, kicking aside clothes to make enough of a space for him to walk through. He can practically see her rolling her eyes at him.

"Are we still up for movie night."

"I'll bake you a batch of snickerdoodles."

"Fine."

-.-

"You want me to what?"

She's curled up on his couch, credits for The Ring rolling on the TV. He's glancing sheepishly down at their empty plates.

"Help me ask out Amanda."

"Amanda Haley?"

He nods.

"Why didn't you go to Star? Or Paulina?" she stresses, leaning forward, eyes boring into him. He shakes his head desolately. "Seriously. I'm no help here."

He continues to shake his head. "No. No, just, no."

"And why not?" she huffs.

"They mean well, but never let them take control of an opportunity to matchmake. The people involved will never be able to show their faces around town anymore."

"And you're okay with me making fun of you," she poses.

He nods.

"Weird."

"Not really," he drawls out slowly, hesitantly. "You wouldn't publicly humiliate me, right?"

"Would I?"

He practically throws himself at her feet in an effort to ensure no public embarrassment. "Please don't!"

Sam's biting the inside of her cheek, trying her damnedest to stifle the laughter that really wants to bubble out, even though one or two stray giggles somehow manages to escape. Kwan can feel a slow rising heat, fanning across his cheeks, but he stays crouched at her feet, hands clasped together. They lock eyes and hold it for a minute until Sam falls back and sighs noisily.

"Fine. But I'm holding you in debt."

-.-

Shifting nervously, he waits behind a row of lockers, keeping an eye on Sam as she heads over towards a tiny brunette. He can tell she's wearing a pained expression because she keeps turning around to glance back at him. Making shooing motions, he urges her to keep going.

He cranes his neck forward, cups a hand over his ear, and strains to hear the conversation. He's able to pick out little bits and pieces and then he hears his name. His eyes grow wide and they rivet to Sam, who's pointing at his corner and making vague hand gestures and saying his name yet again. He just can't resist the urge to pound his head against the lockers.

"Kwan?"

He peeks out from the corner of his eye, keeping his head ducked to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. Amanda's standing there, in all her petite glory, Sam lingering somewhere in the back, making motions for him to get his ass in gear.

He swallows down his fear and musters up as much courage as he can gather, straightening up his spine. "Hi, Amanda."

"Sam said you wanted to talk to me?"

He pulls at his collar, swallowing nervously and sneaks a glance over her shoulder at Sam. At her reproachful glare, he nods jerkily. Amanda waits patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

"I was wondering…"

-.-

They find chances to meet up over the summer at a local café. He always orders a coffee, no matter the weather and she always sticks with her iced mochas. They've become regulars at the little shop that the waiters always have their orders ready along with a small complimentary snack.

They've come a long way from earlier that year, when all their conversations were stilted and awkward. Even though there's the occasional lull in topics, it never becomes uncomfortable. They chat about the upcoming summer concert and about college visits. He introduces her to a whole world of anime and manga, and she returns the favor by slowly leading him into the world of horror and gore.

-.-

"Right! Right!"

The car jerks and they're making the turn a little too sharply, tires screeching against asphalt. The cars around them honk as the one they're in jostles and then rights itself.

"How on Earth did you manage to get your license before me?"

Kwan shrugs. "Luck."

"I'll say," she huffs. "I'm never getting into another car with you."

Kwan laughs, swerving onto the ramp that leads to the highway, nearly crashing. Sam can't even be bothered to be scared anymore and instead fiddles with his radio. "You keep saying that, but the truth is I'm the only one you know with a car."

"Danny has one," she points out.

"It's the Fenton RV," he deadpans.

She sighs. "Fine. It's big and bulky and conspicuous, but Danny is a much better driver than you."

"So what are you doing in my car?"

"Someone has to drive me," she states, settling on a station, "Danny's out bonding with his parents and Tucker can't drive. I'm just not friends with anyone other than you, okay?"

"Aren't you kind of friends with Valerie?"

"Kind of. Either way, she's at work."

"So I'm basically your chauffeur."

"You're my chauffeur."

There's no more talking as the car as it surfs down the highway with only the sounds of heavy rock coming from the stereos. She leans back comfortably into the seat, letting the song wash over her. Eyes fluttering shut, she completely misses their exit.

She's later screaming at him to stop being so illegal as he cuts across four lanes and onto the shoulder, exiting the highway at the next possible exit.

-.-

He's honestly surprised to find out that Sam's in at least three of his classes when senior year starts up. They share BC Calculus, AP English, and oddly enough, Sex Ed. Funny, considering he always believed that she had taken the class already.

But at least he won't be suffering alone.

-.-

"Amanda says thanks, by the way."

She quirks a brow up at him, leaning back in her chair. "Oh?"

"Yeah, for, you know," he elaborates, gesturing loosely.

"No, I don't," she replies coolly, teasingly. "Do tell."

He pins her with a look that clearly states he doesn't believe her and shakes his head at her, her lips twitching at the edges.

"Anyways, Amanda just wanted you to know." With that said and out of the way, he ambles to his seat.

-.-

Kwan stares at the screen of his laptop, a blank word document pulled up, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He tentatively types something down but decides against it and promptly erases it, heaving a sigh.

He opens up a chat window, and thanking lord that Sam is online, messages her.

kwanmeister (9:12:45 CST): help

GothicChick (9:14:03 CST): Again?

kwanmeister (9:14:55 CST): i don't know what to write!

GothicChick (9:15:38 CST): I thought you already had an idea for your essay.

kwanmeister (9:16:59 CST): but every time i start typing everything starts sounding so

kwanmeister (9:17:15 CST): convoluted

kwanmeister (9:17:24 CST): stupid

kwanmeister (9:17:27 CST): HELP

GothicChick (9:18:36 CST): Ugh.

kwanmeister (9:18:38 CST): SAM!

GothicChick (9:18:51 CST): What topics did you have in mind?

kwanmeister (9:19:23 CST): overcoming obstacles and whatnot

GothicChick (9:19:25 CST):

GothicChick (9:19:57 CST): It's so generic it's you.

kwanmeister (9:20:04 CST): SEE?

kwanmeister (9:20:39 CST): i can't think of any obstacles

kwanmeister (9:20:52 CST): they all sound stupid on paper

kwanmeister (9:20:53 CST): i'm stupid

GothicChick (9:21:14 CST): Something we agree on.

GothicChick (9:21:30 CST): What schools are you even applying to?

kwanmeister (9:21:38 CST): mit

kwanmeister (9:21:42 CST): stanford

kwanmeister (9:21:47 CST): yale

kwanmeister (9:21:50 CST): georgetown

GothicChick (9:22:01 CST): Basically all prestigious school

GothicChick (9:22:27 CST): That all require you to be outstanding

GothicChick (9:22:51 CST): And unique.

kwanmeister (9:22:58 CST): yes

GothicChick (9:23:44 CST): I can't believe I'm suggesting this but you could write about us

GothicChick (9:24:03 CST): And how becoming friends with someone outside of your social circle changed you

GothicChick (9:24:13 CST): Or something like that.

kwanmeister (9:24:43 CST): is that your essay topic

GothicChick (9:24:46 CST): Hell no.

GothicChick (9:24:57 CST): Just don't even think about mentioning my name.

-.-

"You remember the favor you owe me?"

Sam nods uneasily, fear prickling somewhere in the back of her brain by the look of glee that slowly emerges on his face.

"Clear up your Friday evening. You've got a game to attend."

-.-

"You look cute."

"Don't," she grits through clenched teeth, "use that word."

Kwan pouts. "But Danny calls you that all the time."

Star rolls her eyes, fingers tightening its hold on Sam's chin, forcing her to remain still. "He's Danny, Kwan. He can get away with just about anything. Sam, stop moving!"

She grunts and sits stock still as Star puts on the last finishing touches to her makeup. "Remind me again why I'm doing this."

Kwan grins, leaning his weight into the lockers behind him. "It's a favor."

"Thanks for agreeing to help us out," Star admits. Sam blinks and gapes at the blonde, trying to comprehend the fact that Star just thanked her. She just ends up shrugging.

"Yeah, well, favors."

"Regardless," Star continues, scooting around to stand behind Sam as she nimbly starts to gather up her hair, "it was nice of you. I know you and I, and Paulina, don't exactly get along."

Sam rolls her eyes. "No kidding."

Paulina scoffs from her perch on the bench, applying her own make-up. "Don't expect me to suddenly be nice to you."

"Never," she jeers back, tentatively thanking Star for helping her. Star just smiles and bounces off to finish her own hair. Danny pops his head into the locker room and his eyes rivet immediately to Sam. He whistles appreciatively and grins wolfishly, waggling his eyebrows. She shakes her head and grabs at a spare jacket. "Don't you say a word, Danny."

He ignores her and sidles up to her, drawing her up for a quick kiss, murmuring, "You look very nice."

"Oh, so he can compliment you and get away with it, yet I can't?"

"Suck it up, Kwan. It's Danny."

-.-

"I got into Whitman," she announces.

It takes a moment for it to fully sink in, but when it does he's leaping over the back of the couch and pulls her into a tight hug, swinging her around in glee. Clutching at his shoulders, she wheezes, "Can't breathe."

"Sorry," he apologizes, setting her back down onto her feet, still sporting his grin. "So you're definitely going."

"That's kind of what early decision entails," she huffs, inhaling deeply.

"Does Danny know?"

Her eye narrow a fraction and she levels him with an exasperated look. "Who do you think I told first?"

He places a hand over his heart with mock hurt. "You mean I'm less important than your boyfriend?"

"Let me think about it. Yes."

-.-

Her phone rings and she uses this chance to escape her parents, locking herself in her room as Kwan's voice filter through her speaker.

"Think you can kidnap me?"

She shakes her head at his joke. "Let me guess, you're hiding from your family."

Kwan sighs on the other end. "Extended family, actually. I tell you, my cousins are way crazy."

He talks about how three of his cousins have taken over his game console and have been playing Super Smash Bros all night, about his overbearing aunt that keeps mentioning his weight and how he should lose some muscle, about one other cousin who had brought her boyfriend who he later found nearly sexing it up on his bed. He talks and she listens.

He finally stops ranting long enough to ask, "How you holding up with your parents?"

She sighs. "Better. They're still giving me all these peppy and cheery presents, though."

"They can't be all that bad," he reassures. "I got a present from my aunt once and it was horrible. I still don't know what to do with it."

There's a pounding on her door and her mother's tone of dissatisfaction filters into her room. "Look, I got to go. Happy holidays and whatnot."

-.-

She hates Valentine's Day. All the pink and red and white just don't settle well with her. How ironic that she actually bought some chocolates just for the holiday to give to Danny. Well, she did get some for Kwan as well, and Tucker simply because she knows that if he finds out she gave Kwan chocolates he'd throw a fit.

She glares deprecatingly at the three bags of chocolates sitting in her locker, having forgotten that she placed them there at the start of school. Grabbing them, she hands Danny and Tucker theirs and pockets the last one.

It's not hard to find Kwan when one knows where to look. She walks up to him and instead of handing him his chocolates, she tosses them at him. Unfortunately, her aim is a bit off and it hits the edge of the trash can but thankfully doesn't end up inside.

He picks it up, glancing confusedly at it. It then hits him that it's Valentine's Day and he pulls Sam into an exuberant hug, albeit reluctant on her part.

-.-

He's trembling, holding his acceptance letter, and a giddy smile breaks out. He immediately reaches for his phone and calls up Sam. She picks up on the fifth ring and before she can say anything, he blusters, "I got in!"

"What?" she mumbles, sleep still evident in her voice.

"I got into Georgetown!"

She exhales noisily. "Congratulations. But did you really have to call me now?"

He nods exuberantly, clutching his phone as he rushes to find his mom and show her the letter. "Of course!"

She grumbles some more and he tries to string together whatever it is she's saying. She huffs one last time and quite firmly tells him, "Next time you get exciting news, tell me when it's not the morning."

-.-

"I hate men."

"And yet you're talking to one. And dating one." Shifting from his position on the couch, he turns to fully face her, worry creasing his brow. "What's wrong?"

She just groans, burying her face into the plush of his couch, mumbling, "Men are such idiots."

He's not so much offended by the fact that she just called him stupid in a roundabout way. He's more worried by the fact that it looks as though she's trying to suffocate herself. "You want to elaborate on it, maybe?"

Her face still buried, she shakes her head. He eyes her in silence, waiting apprehensively for her to calm down enough to bring her face out of the cushions. She's muttering a string of curses into the couch and he awkwardly pats her on the back. Giving one last strangled cry, she lifts her head and sighs deeply.

"Three years, Kwan. Three freaking years," she stresses, holding up three fingers in his face.

He's almost doesn't want to ask. "Of?"

"He's treating me as though I'm a delicate, porcelain doll!" she rages, throwing her arms up in aggravation. Kwan ducks belatedly, her hand catching his forehead. "Sorry."

He rubs at the sore spot. "We're…uh…talking about Danny?"

"Who else?" she spits. "I kind of wish we weren't dating because it was better back then. At least he wasn't this overprotective."

"Never pegged him to be the overprotective kind of person," he mutters thoughtfully, "you know, considering all the ghost busting you do."

Sam moans, dropping her head back into the couch plush. "It's not even just the protectiveness, though. It's like he's walking on eggshells around me. Or like, treating me as though I'd disappear one day. I don't even know why!"

"Maybe," he falters, trying to string together a response that wouldn't set her off, "maybe he's worried about something?"

"No shit, Sherlock."

He cuts her off before she can go off on another tirade. "Maybe he's insecure."

"About what?" she protests, clearly not understanding where he's coming from.

"That you've finally seen the light and are going to dump him?" he offers. "That someone's going to steal you away if he doesn't treasure you enough? That he's going to screw something over so badly that you'll hate him?"

She's getting more and more frustrated. Kwan stops bringing up possible scenarios and places his hands on her shoulders, staring her straight in the eyes.

"Look," he placates. "All this speculating won't help. What you need to do is talk to Danny."

"I tried," she emphasizes.

"Then try again."

She sighs dejectedly and asks, "Why are men so stupid sometimes?"

He thinks it over and can only answer, "I wish I knew."

-.-

He finds Danny at the nurse's office by chance. Not letting the opportunity slip by, he stalks up to him and stands in front of him, blocking the door. Jerking his head in the direction of the football field, he gives Danny no other choice but to follow.

Once behind the bleachers, he turns and levels the other boy with a glare.

"You're doing something and Sam's freaking out." He's blunt and quite satisfied to see Danny flinch under his gaze.

"She is?" he probes uncertainly, shuffling awkwardly.

Kwan's skeptic. "In her own way, yeah. By complaining about how men are all stupid idiots."

"Oh." It's all he says as a response. Kwan waits patiently for anything else he may have to say. When he gets nothing, he starts throwing out all the possible reasons like he did with Sam and each subsequent one makes the shadow on Danny's face grow darker. Danny makes a sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat and Kwan stops listing off possibilities.

"No," he forces out, "no, that's not it."

"Throw me a bone here."

Riveting his eyes around nervously, Danny rocks on his feet, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. He opens his mouth, thinks better of whatever it is that he was going to say, and closes it. Kwan's waiting patiently and drops to the ground, siting crossed legged. Danny sighs openly and drops next to him, head in his hands.

"I'm worried that she'll get hurt."

"You're talking about the girl that fights ghosts with you," he points out. "I'm pretty sure she can handle herself."

"I know she can handle herself. Hell, who wouldn't after seeing her in action? But our last battle with Skulker left me afraid. Sam isn't like me—"

"No one really is," Kwan can't help but interject. Danny smiles tightly.

"Right. And neither is Tucker. If I get hurt, it's not too big of a deal. I'm half ghost; I can recuperate faster. My body's been changed to the point where I can withstand more than the average human. But they can't. And what if one day they try to do too much and end up getting severely hurt because of me? Or dead? I wouldn't be able to handle it."

Danny trails off hesitantly, wringing his fingers together, waiting for Kwan's response. He keeps his eyes downcast and Kwan sighs. Scratching at the base of his neck, he coughs to break the awkward air that had settled.

"Dude, I think you'd be better off telling them rather than me. What am I supposed to do with all this knowledge?"

Danny sits in silent contemplation. Sighing once more and wondering when he started starting playing the mediator, Kwan gives the boy one last pat on the shoulder and heaves onto his feet, leaving him to think things over.

-.-

Danny must have talked with Sam because the next time she's over, she's not muttering obscenities about men being stupid idiots.

-.-

He's quite surprised when Danny comes up to him for help on asking Sam to prom.

"You…uh…want my advice? On asking Sam to prom?"

Danny shakes his head. "I already know how I'm asking. I just need some help executing it."

Kwan breaks out into the biggest grin Danny's ever seen him wear in the fastest time ever and it frightens him, to be honest. Looping an arm around Danny, Kwan practically drags the slightly smaller man down the hall and asks, "So what do you need my help with?"

-.-

Kwan's watching the whole scene unfold from behind a bookshelf. Danny's looking incredibly apprehensive and he can't tell what expression Sam has. Pieces of their conversation filters over to him and he finds himself getting worried as well. Danny's uneasiness is slowly rubbing off on him, though unfounded because he knows Sam's going to say yes.

Danny brings Sam over to the fantasy section where everything had been set up and Kwan follows, book in hand to hide his face in case Sam looks his way. Danny's gestures are starting to become wilder and bigger and Sam's getting annoyed. He can tell, just by the shift in her stance, and he's pretty sure she's got her arms crossed under her chest.

He observes as Danny goes through their rehearsed movements and maybe he's doing something right because Sam's posture is losing some of its stiffness. Deciding he's been there long enough as moral support, he turns and head down the aisles to the manga section.

-.-

"I don't see why you dragged me for prom shopping."

She holds up a dark, lace dress, regards it for a moment and then places it back on the rack.

"You're the only person I know with some kind of fashion sense."

Kwan's silent.

"You need more female friends."

"There's Valerie."

"So why didn't you ask her to come with you?"

"Working."

Kwan slumps into one of the set chairs for people like him and waits as Sam rifles through another rack of dresses. She holds up a couple up to her body and stares contemplatively down at it. Kwan shakes his head and she places it back onto the rack.

"Why don't you go for the first purple dress that you saw?"

Sam shrugs, placing some more of the dresses back and picks up a couple more. "I did like it, but I kind of want to see if there's any other one that catches my eye more."

"You mean, catches Danny's eye more," he teases.

"No," she reiterates, "catches my eye."

Kwan groans, dropping his head back, bolting forward when his head hits the wall with an audible sound. She rolls her eyes at him and holds up another one. Wrinkling her nose, she sets it back.

"Yeah, let's just go with the first one."

-.-

The acoustics in this place is horrible and Sam can feel the beating of the bass deep within her body. Danny has somehow dragged her out to the dance floor and the two of them plus Tucker are dancing to the beat. Well, actually, Tucker's more flailing around than anything. The song soon changes and Tucker stops dancing to make a beeline for the food, leaving Danny and Sam to dance alone.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Danny turns to face Kwan and gives an exaggerated bow to him. Leaning down to give Sam a kiss, he leaves the two alone. Kwan takes up the empty space left by Danny and shoots Sam an awkward smile. He hasn't felt this uncomfortable with her since they first became friends. "So."

"So," she parrots, raising an eyebrow.

He laughs. "Look at us being all awkward with each other."

Sam rolls her eyes, something he's noticed that she does a lot in his presence. Not deterring him one bit, he grabs her wrist and starts tugging her towards the direction of the photographer. "Come on. Let's take a photo."

"Even if I'm not your date?"

He continues to laugh, placing the two of them in front of the screen as the photographer picks up his camera. They share a look and make the goofiest poses ever when the flash goes off.

-.-

It comes as no surprise that Kwan makes valedictorian.

She's the first person he comes to with the news—he does uphold his promise and doesn't find her until well into the afternoon—and he's brimming with unrestrained happiness. He's ecstatic and practically jumping all over the place and only when she threatens to tie him to a tree does he calm down enough to tell her the news.

"Congratulations. But you do know that requires you to write a speech."

-.-

She's poring over his speech, because even though he's valedictorian, she's still better than him when it comes to speeches. He's grateful that she's agreed to help, sprawled uselessly along the length his couch.

She finishes off the last of the correction and hands the sheet back to Kwan, watching with a keen eye as he reads them over.

"You are my savior, you know that?"

"You could stand to mention it more."

Kwan takes one last glance over the notes and tosses them onto the coffee table, grabbing one of the DVDs lying there. "You think we're finally ready to tackle 'The Room'?"

Sam lifts her eyes to stare in undisguised horror. "No. Never."

"Oh come on," he cajoles, wagging the DVD cover in her face. "Worst movie ever made. You know you're tempted."

"Tempted, yes," she agrees quite easily. "But not suicidal."

He harrumphs, flipping the cover to read the summary. "The summary alone would put me off watching this."

"And yet you still want to watch it," she quips.

"Last chance to scar yourself with this horrible movie," he coaxes and she sighs, grabbing the DVD from him.

"If I'm doing this, I'm taking you down with me."

-.-

"Hey."

He jogs up next to her and silently regards her.

"So," he ventures, "about my debt to you…"

"Consider it paid."

He's stunned, reeling back to stare in mild horror at her. She peeks at him from the corner of her eyes and chortles quietly.

"What?" he splutters. "How?"

She shrugs casually and throws him a look. "By being my friend."

"Aw, Sammy," he coos, reaching out to pinch her cheeks. She bats his hand away irritably. "Are you getting sentimental on me?"

"Mental? Yes."

He chortles deeply, averting his eyes to the school in front of them. There's silence as they take in everything. He breaks it first. "It's kind of sad, you know."

"How so?"

"We're all leaving and going our own way and who knows if we'll ever keep in touch with anyone."

"If this is your way of telling me you don't want to lose touch."

He grins sheepishly at her. "You could tell?"

"It's written all over your face."

He laughs. "You're not even looking at me."

She turns to fully face him, arms crossed under her chest. "Now I am."

"Now you are," he easily acquiesces.

Another blanket of silence befalls them as they turn their attention back to the school. This time, it's Sam who breaks the peace.

"Ready for our graduation ceremony tomorrow?"

-.-

"Four years ago, if someone had told me that I'd become best friends with the most kickass goth girl ever, I would have told them they were crazy. Two years later, that's exactly what happened.

High school is all about experiencing new things, unexpected things. From joining new clubs and making new friends to finding out that one of your classmates is a ghost-hunting ghost. It's when we start growing as people, learning lessons that may or may not benefit us. We've all made friends that will stick with us through life and then there are those people you wished you never talked to. Of course, there are also people that you never talked to that you wished you did.

But there's no way of turning back the clock and redoing events we so sorely wish we could. The only thing we can do is hold our heads up high and walk forward. Learn from our mistakes, our greatest accomplishments, and use those to help guide us.

So, there's no turning back. Walk forward and hope that we'll all meet again holding even more accomplishments under our belts."

-.-

Their hats have been thrown into the air and everyone's let out a large whoop to celebrate their newfound freedom. Friends have found each other and are all hugging each other fiercely and crying.

Kwan finds Dash, Star, and Paulina easily within the crowd of people and the four of them chat about their summers and keeping in touch. They pose for a couple of photos until Paulina's whisked away by one of her many admirers and Dash gets wrapped up in horsing around with the other football players. Star smiles up at him and gives him a small peck on the cheek.

He creeps up behind Amanda and wraps his arms around her, swinging her around effortlessly. She shrieks his name and he laughs, setting her down and leaning in for a kiss. They keep it short and simple, pulling away with giddy smiles adorning both their faces. They makes plans for the weekend and he greets her friends before excusing himself, having spotted Sam.

He hurries after her, squeezing his way through the mass of people, keeping his eyes trained on her moving figure. Catching up, he plants himself in front of her. They stare at each other for quite some time, until he breaks into a wide grin and holds out his arms for a hug.

"Best friends for life?"

"Best friends for life."

A/N: For some reason, I can totally see Sam and Kwan as best friends and the idea just wouldn't leave me. Thus, this fic was born.