High Expectations

Two little goldfish sleeping quite happily were suddenly startled awake by the hyper voice of their favourite fairy godchild.

"Yay! It's the first day of school!" shouted an excited fourteen year old Timmy Turner, pumping his fists energetically into the air. His brown hair was messy and hanging in his face and he was dancing in victory around his room in his pajamas but he really did not care particularly.

Poofing themselves with far less enthusiasm than Timmy from their fish bowl, Wanda and Cosmo suddenly appeared in their normal state hovering several feet off the ground, both looking tired. It was six A.M. in the morning; they had every right to be.

"Sweetie, as glad as I am that you're finally excited about school does it have to be right now?" Wanda asked tiredly, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

"Yeah, Timmy, it's just school, what's so exciting about that?" Cosmo asked chipper, but nonetheless confused. Timmy hated school.

"'Cause it's high school! I'm in grade nine now! And you know that means?!" Timmy replayed excitedly.

Just as excitedly Cosmo responded, "Oooh! Whatwhatwhatwhat!?"

"A clean slate! I'll finally be cool! I won't be the loser I was in elementary! I'll finally get some respect! And you know what else!? I'll get to see Trixie Tang again, and this time around I'll get to be her boyfriend!" Timmy pronounced smugly. He was full of self-confidence. This would be his year, he knew it!

Cosmo was easily affected by Timmy's almost infectious good mood, but Wanda kept a clear head. There was going to be a major wish mistake today, she could tell by the twisting in her gut, and she would need her practical sense to get them out of it, or try to prevent it the best she could.

"Now, Timmy, let's not get over excited," Wanda began, trying to start early on the damage control.

"Oh, come on, Wanda, don't kill the mood!" Timmy whined.

"Yeah, Wanda, don't be such a mood killer!" Cosmo agreed playfully. He loved to push Wanda's buttons.

Wanda sighed despairingly, knowing she was probably too late to stop the ball rolling. Hopefully the wish wasn't going to be too outrageous, but then, Timmy's wishes were always extravagant when it came to Trixie. I really don't understand why he likes that little snob so much. Sure she's pretty, but looks aren't everything surely! If he quit wasting his time on her I'm sure he could find a nice girl, someone that would appreciate him.

But telling Timmy that would likely be suicidal; Trixie was his only goal.

As Wanda's thoughts wandered Timmy had already changed from his pj's and into a pair of dark jeans and a grey t-shirt. He combed his fingers through his hair hurriedly and took a glance at the mirror in his room; giving a wink and a bucktooth smile to his reflection. His happiness flickered as he gave a disapproving glare at his wretched looking teeth.

A couple years back when he had attempted to ask Trixie out for the thousandth time she had retorted that she would only date someone who had perfect teeth. Having buckteeth made it impossible for him to be even a possibly candidate as a boyfriend. So, trying to wish things better as he usually did he had to wish that his parents had an overwhelming urge to make him perfect, giving him rather painful temporary, not to mention expensive, braces (he's parent's would notice if suddenly came home with perfect teeth Wanda had pointed out). Being the new-super-awesome (slightly magically enhanced) temporary braces, they had worked like a charm, and within a week he had a perfect set of teeth. Of course, the powerful urge his parents had to make him perfect back-fired, and he had been almost forced to go through painful plastic surgery to fix his 'imperfect' face (not that he found anything wrong with it). More importantly, Trixie had found his teeth too perfect. So, he quickly unwished the wish, getting back his buckteeth, getting rid of his parent's obsessive need to perfect their only son, and still had gotten nowhere with Trixie. Pretty much the story of his life.

"Come on, Timmy, you better get some breakfast before the bus comes," Wanda thought aloud, noticing the dark smudge on Timmy's happy mood.

"Yeah, I guess," Timmy replied absently, his mind already buzzing with plots to try and gain Trixie's love.

MWMWMWWMWMW

"God, I hate my life!!!" Timmy despaired, flinging himself face down onto his bed. His day had not gone well.

First off, he had been forced to make his own lunch. Apparently since he was in high school his parents thought it ought to be his responsibility to make sure he was well fed during school lunch hours. Of course, there was no bread to make sandwiches, or juice boxes – he couldn't even find a damn apple to bring to school. So he had practically starved, getting by on A.J. and Chester's scraps.

Then he didn't know where he had left his backpack, and was forced to dig through the mess that had accumulated in his closet over the summer to find it. He had found it after some diligent searching – finding his pack smelling like dead cat – and discovering he had missed the bus. This, of course, made him late for homeroom.

There were also the teachers. He suddenly missed Crocker with the reminder of the hell demons that commanded the classroom. Each of his teachers had assigned homework; with a novel to be read and finished in two weeks in English, a lab report to be handed in on Friday in Science, a map to labelled in Geography, and pages of calculations to be done for Math. Phys. Ed. had been a waking nightmare.

His teacher, Mr. Schmitz, was like a human replica of Jorgen Van Strangle. Right down to the military fatigues. Schmitz had forced them to do this horrid thing called a 'beep test' where every person from his class had to run from one to another. You were supposed to stop once you were at your limit, but any kid that tried to stop found themselves face to face to with a red-faced, loudly swearing Mr. Schmitz. The smart kids kept running until they passed out from exhaustion; Timmy included. And of course, on top of that, the only break he had gotten was at lunch – he had been shocked to learn that there was no recess.

But worse was what had happened at lunch with Trixie. He had been forced to answer the most dreaded question in the universe for guys: boxers or briefs? When he had attempted to try and ask Trixie what she did over the summer some dumb ass senior in a lettered jacket came up behind him and pantsed him. God, the horrible snickers of everyone in the lunchroom, Chad and Tad's snorts, Trixie squirting out her nose from laughter, and the dumb sounding guffaws of the responsible senior had made him want to die. He had run out of the lunch room, tripping over his own pants several times in the attempt. He had hid in the boy's bathroom for the rest of the day and cried.

The very thought made him blush a deep crimson, and made him sick to his stomach. He felt like crying again.

Wanda and Cosmo hovered over Timmy's bed; Wanda concerned, Cosmo picking his nose.

"Come on, sweetie, school wasn't that bad. High school's a little different that what you're used to, that's all. It'll take some adjusting," Wanda soothed.

"No it won't!! I want to die! I'm the laughing stock if the entire school, Trixie will never talk to me now! I'll have to live through this for the rest of high school," Timmy shouted into his pillow.

"At least you were wearing underwear! Imagine if you forgot!" Cosmo innocently pointed out. Timmy screamed pitifully into his pillow.

Wanda shouted at her husband, "Cosmo!"

Cosmo defended his point, his wife obviously didn't understand the value of the information he just gave, "What!? It happens! I forget sometimes, ya know!"

Wanda just sighed, "You're really not helping Cosmo."

"Well, sooooo-ooory! It's not like Timmy can just skip over a couple of years until he's in his graduating year so he doesn't have to deal with all the humiliation! I mean, if he was in his final year everyone would forget about Timmy being pantsed. Oh, and he'd be the top of the school pecking order too. Too bad he can't just magically wish that."

Timmy perked up Cosmo's saucy dialogue, and got a mischievous look in his eye. "Well, why can't I? I have the two best fairy godparents a kid could ask for. So how about it? Wanna grant me a wish?"

"Sure thing!" Cosmo cheered before Wanda stopped him from even twitching his wand.

"Timmy, are you sure you want to skip over four years of your life like that? You'll look eighteen, but you'll still be fourteen. You won't grow up, and you won't know anything for your classes! Besides, what have you learned about fiddling around with time!?" preached Wanda disapprovingly. Something was bothering her about the wish – there was something wrong about the time period they were going to fling themselves into. If she could only remember what.

"Yada, yada, yada. Will you quit with the lecture and grant the wish already!? I wish when I wake up tomorrow I'm eighteen and in my final year of high school, got it?!" Timmy commanded, his fourteen year old voice cracking with all the emotion and teenage angst.

"Yeah," shouted both Cosmo and Wanda with varying degrees of enthusiasm, and waved their wands obediently, a magically charged poof of smoke appearing indicating the wish had succeeded.

His mood having risen significantly Timmy went to bed, excited for the morrow.