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Mikey had always been good at making situations work for him. He was good at laying out his options and figuring out what would either get him the most gain or in the least amount of trouble.
If his parents fought, Mikey would convince his dad to take them on a family outing to “make up for it”. If he did something wrong, he could put on his most innocent face and the adults would usually brush it off as an accident. If he saw an opportunity, he took it.
It was like how he dealt with the A-Listers. He was scrawny and a nerd, which would usually put him at the bottom of the social ladder, but he’d found a way to make himself useful. The first time Dash had cornered him because of some misplaced aggression, he’d handed over a pristine copy of his math homework and an alliance had been formed. Now, not only were he and his friends not bullied, they always had the best seat in the house for home games.
It didn’t always work out that way. Helping Kwan cheat on his science test had gotten both in more trouble than Mikey liked to think about, but in general he was pretty good at making things work.
Everyone else thought the ghosts were a nuisance, and they definitely were, but Mikey? Mikey had seen an opportunity.
It started, like it always did, with Danny Fenton running off to use the restroom. Mikey didn’t know what kind of device he had that alerted him or if it was some side effect of living around ectoplasm for as long as he had, but that didn’t really matter. The ghosts were what mattered.
As soon Danny left the room, everyone’s head swiveled towards the windows. Sometimes the ghost would stick to the inside of the school. When that happened, the only signs of the fight would be the crashes and shouting echoing through the hallways. Those weren’t good fights to bet on. There wasn’t enough certainty about exactly what happened.
But, sometimes, sometimes, the ghosts would fight out in the open. Those were the good fights. Well, good for Mikey, they were generally a pain for everyone else.
The entire class held their breath. Now was the time anything could happen from a fight flying through the wall to the box ghost popping up from the floor.
The first slip of paper was passed to Mikey. “Three glitter pens on the Box Ghost showing up.”
Mikey wrote it down and discreetly slipped the gel pens into his bag. Glitter pens weren’t worth a lot in his ledger, but they were worth more than some of the candies or more general stationery.
A metal body with green flames leaping from its head floated down to hover right outside the window. Tough luck for the owner of those gel pens.
Almost as one, the class backed away from the window. Wary, but not ready to run. This wasn’t a ghost that targeted humans, well usually. It had webbed Mikey to a wall once. So, it was kinda a jerk.
Paulina passed him a bag of chocolate covered coffee beans and a note betting the ghost boy would wave at her. It wasn’t a great bet when they were inside and Phantom wasn’t. He didn’t stay around to chat most of the time. Mikey wrote down the bet anyway and gave her 3:1 odds anyway. It wasn’t like Phantom hadn’t gotten thrown through a wall before.
The ghost had settled outside their window, binoculars in hand. A minute later, Phantom floated down beside him. The metal ghost didn’t notice him. Phantom turned to the class, winked and put a finger to his mouth.
Paulina would undoubtedly say that counted as her winning. MIkey decided he wasn’t going to give her the win unless Dash looked serious when he threatened to beat him up.
Kwan passed him a note betting that Phantom would end up being punched into something and forget to phase through. There were two movie ticket vouchers under the note. Kwan must have been confident. Of course, he had a good chance at being right. Phantom forgot to phase through things in a solid 60% of his fights according to Mikey’s records.
The ghost still hadn’t noticed Phantom.
Phantom winked at the class again before looking back to the ghost and clearing his throat.
The ghost jumped, dropping the binoculars in its surprise. Phantom took the opportunity to punch the ghost in the face.
After that the fight was on and Mikey was too busy oscillating between discreetly writing down bets and watching the fight to think. Well, he did spare a thought to be thankful that Lancer was just as engrossed in the ghost fight as his students.
Mikey was writing down a bet on two full-size Twix bars that Phantom would use a stolen Fenton gadget when he froze. He knew that hand writing.
Mikey looked up from his books and, sure enough, Foley was standing there looking much too confident. Mikey glared at him and shoved both the note and the candy back at him. Mikey had thought he’d been clear.
Foley lifted his hands and refused to take the note or the candy bars, the ass.
“You know you aren’t allowed to bet,” Mikey hissed, glancing quickly at Lancer to make sure the man was still watching the ghost fight.
Foley crossed his arms. “It’s not my fault that I have good luck.”
Mikey narrowed his eyes. “Good luck explains how Kwan manages to guess the ghost in 1 in 3 fights. It does not explain how you always know what gadgets Phantom pulls out.” Foley also seemed to have an uncanny grasp of Phantom's moves, timing, and even how often he would interact with people. But it was the gadgets that gave him away.
Foley scoffed, “Please, how on Earth could I possibly know what Phantom’s going to pull out in a fight? And I didn’t even say what it would be this time!”
“Someone has to supply him,” Mikey said, voice low, “And you’re friends with Fenton.” If Foley was Phantom's supplier, Mikey certainly wouldn’t hold it against him. It was probably a good thing overall. Mikey just wasn’t going to let Foley use it to cheat the books. If he was going to supply Phantom, he could do it without fixing fights.
Foley’s eyes widened and he rapidly shook his head. “No, no,” I just have a program that tracks what he’s used in previous fights with different ghosts and calculates the probability based on that! I don’t know Phantom!”
Well, that was certainly some kind of confirmation. “That’s still cheating,” Mikey said, paused, and decided that, yes, he was going to push it, “Besides, an algorithm like that wouldn’t explain how you knew about the Ghost Lasso. He’d never used it before the fight last Thursday!” Mikey’s own algorithm certainly hadn’t predicted it.
Foley swallowed, his eyes wide. Mikey regretted pushing him, just a little. Cheering for Phantom in a ghost fight was one thing, actively assisting him and possibly stealing from the Fentons was another. Foley could get into a lot of trouble and Mikey didn’t actually want that.
Mikey had made up his mind to assure Tucker that he wasn’t going to tell anyway when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Mikey froze. Fiddlesticks.
“Mr. Jankowski,” Mr. Lancer started, “I thought we talked about gambling not being an appropriate activity, especially not on school grounds.”
Mikey turned to look him in the eye, putting on his best innocent face. “It’s not gambling, Mr. Lancer,” he said. Outright denial was enough to stump some people. It certainly worked on his mom.
It didn’t work on Lancer. He stared pointedly at Mikey’s notebook on his desk and the pile of loot poorly hidden in his backpack. He raised an eyebrow. “Is it not?”
Mikey shook his head. “It’s just school supplies and candy. Gambling requires a wager of ‘something of value’ and we’re not using money anymore. I don’t really think a few gel pens and a couple of Twix bars count as being valuable.”
He hoped not. Mikey had looked up the law on gambling after the last time he got caught. It very clearly stated the gambling meant to “wager something of value.” Of course value was subjective, but Mikey really hoped gel pens didn’t count. The law had also been pretty clear on the consequences of running an illegal gambling ring.
Lancer held his gaze for several seconds before sighing and running his hand down his face. “Fine,” he said, looking towards the ceiling. Then, “Put me down for two packs of gum for Jack and Maddie Fenton showing up.”
Mikey stared at him for a few moments before nodding slowly and turning to his notebook. He paused.
“You know,” he said, “The Fentons showing up are pretty long odds.” It would be different if it were near pick-up time, but it was midday and ghost fights didn’t usually last long enough for the Fentons to both hear about it and get there in time to do anything.
“Yes,” Lancer agreed, “But if they do show up, I’m going to need those chocolate covered coffee beans and, as you said, a pack of gum isn’t anything ‘of value’”
Mikey nodded and wrote it down.
In the distance, he heard screeching tires and a blaring siren that sounded a lot like Jack Fenton’s voice. That was suspicious. Mikey narrowed his eyes at Lancer. The man looked more resigned than anything else.
Mikey hesitated for a few moments before deciding there was nothing he could or should do. He knew when to cut his losses. Besides, Lancer really would need those chocolate covered coffee beans if got chased around with a ghost weapon again.