Title: Hide and Seek
Author: Multi Shipper Girl
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.
Summary: Sam moved to Amity Park. She lives in a house where the people say Danny Fenton's family used to live. Rumors has it that it's haunted and there's a ghost. She doesn't believe in ghosts, but when she sees Danny Phantom...

Author's Note: I haven't watched this show in a while so sorry if I have characters OOC. Please review! :)

Author's Note from Aurora Marie Williams: Above is the original author's note from Multi-Shipper Girl. This story was adopted from her with her permission. I'm the beta reader for this story, and she needed someone to take over for her, so being the beta reader, I decided to take on the challenge. Multi-Shipper Girl has let me know what she had in mind for this story and wanted me to fill in the blanks. So these ideas belong to both of us! For the next couple days, I'll be posting chapters everyday until I get to the last chapter that the original author posted. After that, I'm not sure how consistent the updating will be. I'm going through each chapter again and revising it once more (with permission from Multi-Shipper Girl), so if you have any suggestions for certain things to be refined, just let me know! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: Sam the Gothic Newbie

I didn't ask for all of this. I would have been perfectly happy with an ordinary, average, mediocre life that a normal fifteen year old should have. I'd rather worry about getting homework assignments into teachers than worrying about the things that Ido worry about.

My name is Sam, and if you call me Samantha, chances are I'll shove my combat boots down your throat. I an Ultra-Recyclo Vegetarian, and goth. I'm not the prettiest girl on the street – pale skin, shot black hair I keep in a partial ponytail, and eyebrows that have wax begging to be put on them. I've always loved my light violet eyes that I don't coat with waxy colors of make-up. I can deal with my favorite purple lipstick, but not that greasy stuff that girls are convinced will make them be better and prettier people.

My clothes aren't designer specialties. I bought them at a store in the mall called Cataclysm. Midnight black tank top that exposes my midriff – I can't explain why I like this type of shirt, I just do – adorned with a purple oval laying down horizontally in the middle. A black skirt with neon green lines running up, down, left, and right over purple tights. And of course my beloved combat boots.

Jewelry? Black bracelets and a black choker. Yes, I'm a goth. You're probably thinking that I'm a freak. I get that all the time, but it doesn't bother me anymore. I can't change who I am and I've learned not to care what other people think of me.

My family and I recently moved to Amity Park. It's a small town in Illinois that borders Lake Michigan. It's a big change from living in Manhattan, New York, but at least I still have the water. I had already been secretly planning for the Lake to be my place of refuge. But it's a really big change from living in New York – the city that never sleeps. I really didn't like living in the city – although I liked living on an island – and neither did my grandmother. My parents wanted the best for us. Hence, the move... for about the fourth time in my life.

When I first saw our new house, I'd liked to have died from over laughing. It was a three storey red brick house with something on top that resembled a gutted space ship. There was a sign on the house, but it had long since deteriorated, and I couldn't make out what it might have once read. My mother was disgusted with the house, and since we're filthy rich, a complete remodeling of the house went underway.

Now, the house resembled our old home we had in Las Vegas about four years ago when I was in sixth grade. Three stories, smoothed Indiana limestone, prairie grid lines in white windows, double doors that lead to an Italian marble foyer, and a beautiful garden surrounding the house. Oh, and most importantly of all, the huge space ship was taken off an hauled to a junk yard. As it was being taken away, a small piece of metal fell off that I slipped into my pocket. It felt wrong to be completely rid of the house's previous state.

We have lived inside this house for the whole summer. Most of my time was spent with my family because I was too shy to get outside and meet anyone new. Although, I did go to the docks as planned, and a small bookstore.

I made a discovery on one trip to bookstore. Long story short, I saw an advertisement for The Nasty Burger. I was absolutely revolted at first because the name sounds... well, nasty. After finding out it was the only place in Amity that offered a vegetarian meal, I tried it out. I had only ordered a garden burger and a side salad, but it was surprisingly good.

I also discovered soon that it was the hot spot for kids my age to use for a hangout. Needless to say, I adopted a shady corner in the joint as my own personal seat; I didn't want to make contact with anybody until school started. This year I would be entering Casper High as a sophomore. I'm okay at making new friends. I don't mention that I'm rich because the snobby popular kids come around and I don't want to go for the popularity. I just want to have nice and normal friends. I don't want to have friends that like me because I'm rich. At my other school, I gained one best friend. She's really nice and we try to keep in touch; I have her cell number and email.

I'm physically ready for school, but not mentally. I have to get ready for being known as the new kid again. The first few days are fine because it's rare that someone wants to talk to the newbie, so I get to enjoy a few days of refuge by being avoided... just the way I like it.

Obviously, it's morning; I can tell because my parents are milling around my room happily. They pull the blinds up, letting the sun shine through reminding me that it's my first day of school. I'm usually a morning person, but I couldn't sleep last night. I thought it was because of the fact that my first day of school is today, but as I'm walking around the house to go to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I feel there's something... strange.

It's the odd and scary feeling like you feel someone is watching you. You can feel it, but you don't know who or what it is. It's that cold feeling that runs up your spine and then you can see the hairs on your arm rise straight up. At first, I thought it was just that the air conditioning was malfunctioning, but after my thorough analysis of the system, nothing appeared to be wrong. As for the feeling that someone is watching me, I don't know. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe being outside in the sun will make a difference, but since I'm a goth, I don't really like the sun. You could say my case is a lose, lose scenario.

Mom bought some Quakers Fruit Variety oatmeal – the blueberry was my favorite – so that was my breakfast. I eat quickly, burning my tongue, and ignore the strange feeling that someone is watching me. I can't be the only one in this house that feels the strange presence, but I don't want to ask. I come to the conclusion that I'm paranoid. I did watch Dead Teacher III last night...

After I ate my breakfast, I left for school on a long yellow transportation unit that society calls a school bus, but in my world it's a personal prison. In a few months, I'll get my driver's license which I can't wait for. No more sitting on the bus for me. When the school bus dropped us off, I stare at the Casper High building. I gather all my mental strength and walk into my other personal prison.

Surprisingly, I get settled into school just fine – and it happened quicker than I expected. The school day goes by really fast. There are eight periods each day that last about half an hour each. Before I knew it, the day was already halfway over.

I glance at my schedule nervously. It was eighth period which meant it was my last time to make a major mistake that would mark my reputation as "loser" forever. English with Lancer, B: Room 212. I race to the room when all the other students are switching classes. He's not in the classroom when I arrive, and neither are any students. I wanted to be here early because I want to make a good first impression... and have a good seat. Suddenly, a wave of students overwhelm me. I hold my ground, and the cluster dissipates. As I'm walking to get to my seat, I bump into someone.

"Oh, sorry," I apologized. I looked at the person. Oh crap, I thought.

My height, but more intimidating. Long athletic tanned legs, an extremely curvy figure, long wavy black hair, aqua colored eyes, pink halter top, jean capris (all form fitting), and enough make-up to beautify a classroom full of fourth graders. She didn't take my apology very well.

Her Hispanic eyes narrowed when she saw me. Great, it's my first day and I've already made an enemy.

"Watch where you're going, goth freak!" She has a Spanish accent laced within her voice. The kids that were present in the classroom laughed at me... except for one boy with dark skin. "Maybe you could try putting on some make-up. Maybe it'll make you look... decent." She shrugged at the last word and kept on walking.

There's too much anger inside of me and I can't control myself. I force a sarcastic laugh. "Thanks for the tip, but I don't think you know the first thing about being decent. You look like you try to make yourself perfect, but it has a reverse affect on you." She turned around, looking extremely angry and I see the rest of the kids watching our argument like they were expecting an all-out brawl was to come. "Then again, I guess I shouldn't expect so much from someone who's so shallow." My fellow students' are staring at me like an object from outer space that had crashed into their perfect world.

That's when she looks offended. She got up in my face and spat, "Did you just call me shallow?"

"Now, ladies, I've heard enough," a low male voice said. My head snaps in the direction of the voice. A somewhat short man with a majorly receding hairline and round belly is standing the doorway. His administration tag reads Mr. Lancer. Just great. "Paulina and..." He looked at me not knowing what to call me because I'm new. "Uh... miss, please take a seat now." We did as told, and the bell rang the moment I took my seat towards the back. More students filed into the classroom with an embarrassed look on their face for being tardy to class.

The teacher introduced himself and mentioned the fact that there were new faces among us. I noticed a boy and two other girls blush. I'm grateful for that because now I don't feel so awkward, knowing there are other new kids. Mr. Lancer asks the new students to rise one at a time and tell the class a little bit about themselves. The worst thing a teacher could ever do to a student on their first day at a new school. I started getting nervous because I was last and my turn was next. When it was, Mr. Lancer tells me to stand up and introduce myself.

"Uh..." I started out stupidly, making myself look awkward. "My name is Sam Manson."

"Yawn." A blond girl says in high, cheery voice that's very annoying. I figure she's one of Paulina's cronies because she has some top of the line clothes and is surrounded by a bunch of huge buff guys that look like they're on the football team.

"Students," Mr. Lancer chided them and looked at me. "Please, continue, Sam."

"I'm from New York City," I speak bravely so that Paulina's friend knows she doesn't bother me. "I'm an Ultra-Recyclo Vegetarian." Some kids raised my eyebrows at that – I'm not afraid to admit it aloud. I know there's not a lot about me to know so I finish lamely. "I like to listen to music and read... so yeah..."

I sit down and the class, along with Mr. Lancer, claps politely. But they did it with hesitation. Mr. Lancer saved me from my moment of embarrassment and dived right into the lesson. The moment he turned his back to the class to write on the chalkboard, a boy sitting on my right grabs my attention.

"Hey," he whispers. It's the boy that didn't laugh at Paulina's comment about my being a freak. He has on a beige long-sleeve shirt, brown pants, black dress shoes, and a red beret. He has chocolate skin, but he doesn't have brown eyes like I would expect. Instead they were a crystal-looking teal color.

"Hey," I whisper back to him.

"You stood up to Paulina. No one's done that before."

I smile because he's so amazed. "It's about time someone did, right?"

"Yeah, finally. Don't worry about her or her friends. They're just popular jerks. I'm Tucker Foley."

"Mr. Foley, Miss Manson," Mr. Lancer called out our names sternly. I hadn't even noticed that he stopped writing. "I know it's your first day, Sam, so I'll let you off the hook. As for you, Tucker," his eyes move to look at the boy sitting next to me. He's making an innocent smile, so the teacher just rolls his eyes. "Don't start," he said in a dry tone. "It's only the beginning of school."

"No promises," Tucker whispered under his breathe.

When Mr. Lancer turns back to the board, Tucker winks at me and begins making doodles on his notebook paper.

I think I made a new friend.