Chapter Text
Stella “Star” Kaiser thinks she knows everything about everyone.
After all, how could she not? She was second in command to the queen bee of Casper High. She had to have all the dirt on all the students all the time, lest she be cast out of the A-Listers, like a few certain classmates she could name. She knew every single one of the secrets of nearly all of her classmates, no matter the age, grade, popularity, or social status. She even had stuff on that goth girl and her weird nerd friend. Yet there was one person who seemed to continuously evade her:
Daniel James Fenton.
To most people, Danny was exactly what he looked to be on the outside: a loser, a freak, an outcast nerd, the creepy son of the creepy town ghost hunters.
But Star always knew to look deeper than outside appearances.
Even aside from his whole nerdy weirdo thing, there was always one thing that seemed to nag at her, and she wasn't even sure why. It's not like it was strange compared to the rest of Danny, but every little thing about him seemed to stick out in stark contrast to the rest of the school. Especially that damn thermos of his.
Ever since freshman year, he had never been seen without it. Star had thought of every reason as to why, but they either didn't make sense or didn't check out.
Did he just keep his lunch in there like any normal person would? Nope, he never opened it. He didn't let anyone else open it. He protected it like it was his own child.
Was it some weird thing his parents had invented? Based on the odd color scheme and the logo stamped on the side, it most definitely was, but Star had no idea what it was used for. It either had something to do with ghosts, or it was just a thermos with the name Fenton on it, sort of like the Fenton anti-creep stick that almost every person in the school owned. She was kind of hoping for the latter.
Did he think having a glorified soup can on him at all times somehow made him cool? Definitely not, he always acted like it was an annoying precaution, or a necessary inconvenience or something.
But why was it necessary? Why was it always with him? Star had no idea. She had once had the fleeting thought that it was a Percy Jackson and Riptide type thing--something that no matter what, would always come back to him--but she had brushed it off just as quickly as it had come, and refused to admit to the fact that she had actually thought up a theory as insane as that one. Or the fact that she knew the intricacies of a children’s fictional book universe that well.
Part of her wanted nothing more than to drop the subject entirely and find something weird about Fenton that had more solid evidence, or at least something mildly interesting, but it bugged her just enough for the question to sit uncomfortably in her consciousness every time she saw him.
The question of the infamous Fenton thermos crossed Star’s mind once more as she sat alone at a table in the school hallway, spinning her pencil between her fingers as she pretended to be thinking hard about a question on a test she had missed a few days ago.
She sighed and dropped her pencil to the table, fully prepared to mentally go through each and every one of the theories she had amassed since Danny had started carrying the thermos around when the sound of shoes squeaking on the linoleum floors came from behind her.
At first she brushed it off as some random kid rushing to make it to their class after hanging out in the bathroom a little too long, but the sound only got louder and closer.
Star turned her head just in time to see none other than Danny Fenton himself running through the hallway, a determined yet tired look on his face and that stupid thermos clenched tightly in his right hand.
Of course it was with him. It always was.
Wait.
Fenton. Thermos. Here. Right now. An idea popped into her head.
Star’s eyes narrowed. She was getting to the bottom of this.
Abandoning her half finished test entirely, Star shifted towards the edge of her seat and rested her weight on the balls of her feet, ready to lunge at any minute. She took a deep breath and began mentally counting down:
1…
2…
3…
NOW!
She sprang from her spot and grabbed Danny’s wrist in a death grip right as he passed her desk, making him yelp as he tripped and fell to the ground.
“Jesus, Star! What the hell?!” Danny exclaimed breathlessly.
“What’s up with you and your thermos?” Star demanded, using her free hand to point at the cylinder still clasped tightly in his hand.
Danny blinked. “My thermos?”
“Yeah. Why’s it always with you?” She glanced in the direction Danny had been headed, “Even when you’re running as fast as you can to the boys bathroom?”
“Well, I uh-”
“And why do you never even use it? You never open it at lunch, or any time for that matter. Is it some ghost thing your weirdo parents made for you?” Star plowed on, ignoring Danny’s stutters.
“ What was that about my parents?” Danny interrupted, his voice accusing.
“I called them weirdos. Now answer the question.”
Danny huffed, obviously miffed about the insult to his family. “I never let people open it because it’s mine and I can do what I want with it, and yeah, my weirdo parents made it.” He put air quotes around the weirdo bit.
“I figured as much, but is it for-”
“ Ghosts? ” Danny whisper yelled, completing her sentence while staring intensely at something behind her.
Star frowned at the obvious attempt to escape the situation, but turned around to look for the threat, making sure to tighten her grip on Danny’s wrist while she looked away.
Sure enough, there was a faint greenish glow coming from the next hall over that was steadily approaching their spot in the center of the hallway.
Star cursed under her breath and let out a frustrated groan. “This conversation isn’t over, Fenton.”
“Based off the ghost coming towards us, I’d say it is.”
Star sent Danny a biting glare. “You still owe me answers, asshole.”
Danny simply nodded in response, still staring at the approaching ghost with an irritated look in his eyes. Star returned the gesture and let go of Danny’s wrist, watching as he immediately darted for the men’s room. Star followed suit and hid in the girls bathroom, left with just as many questions as she had before.
Fortunately for her, those questions would be answered the following Wednesday.
Star slumped over her desk in the middle of the English room and flicked through the poetry book Mr. Lancer had required the class to read, claiming it would “enlighten their young minds to the epic joys and sorrows of Poe.”
Thus far, all it was doing for Star was making her think of all the things she’d rather be doing. Like baking. Or hanging out with Paulina. Or ice skating. Or fixing her outfits for the week. Or interrogating Fenton about his dumb thermos. That last one sounded the most appealing.
It had been days, but Danny’s evasive answers had seriously irked her. Why wouldn’t he just be upfront about why he had it? It was just a thermos, it wasn’t like she had caught him with a machete in his bag or anything. It wasn’t a huge deal, Star just wanted to know why. She knew her and her friends weren’t exactly on good terms with Danny, but you didn’t necessarily need to like someone to give them a reason for why you’re so attached to some weird metal thermos your parents gave you, right? It just didn’t make any sense.
Star’s internal analysis was interrupted by an echoey cry of “I AM THE BOX GHOST!” coming from the hall outside the classroom, as well as a collective groan from everyone in the class, possibly even from the room next door.
“The Great Gatsby!” Mr. Lancer cursed. “Alright class, you know the drill.”
The whole class heaved a sigh and began to cram themselves under their tiny desks, their movement almost robotic at this point, when the door blasted open, followed by a familiarly irritating voice shouting “BOXES!” at no one in particular.
A few seats over, Star heard Danny groan dramatically and yank his backpack off the back of his seat.
“For fucks fucking sake, I do not have time for this today-” She heard him mutter as he rummaged through his bag. No one else seemed to notice this, seeing as they kept their attention focused on the cardboard obsessed spectre hovering in front of them.
Star, however, realized what a great moment this would be to finally figure out what was up with Fenton, and stayed focused on him.
She watched as Danny stuck his arm elbow deep in the ratty old NASA backpack, his brow furrowed in concentration and he felt around for… something. The moment the Box Ghost began his monologue on how he was the ruler of all things cube and corrugated, Danny seemingly found what he had been looking for, and produced none other than the infamous thermos itself from his bag and pointed the mouth at the ghost.
With a pointed glare, he tapped a red button on the side of it and the Box Ghost was instantly flooded in neon blue light, the shining color wrapping around his body and sucking him into the thermos.
Wordlessly, Danny capped the device and stuffed it back in his bag. He climbed back into his seat and started reading where he had left off before the interruption as if nothing had even happened.
Star, along with the rest of the class, stared at him in a mixture of shock, awe, and confusion from under the various chairs and tables they had jammed themselves under. Before long, they all slowly crawled out from their feeble desk hiding spots and reopened their books, too stunned to say anything.
Stella “Star” Kaiser thought she knew everything about everyone.
But Danny Fenton proved her wrong.