I woke slowly, the ring of my phone slicing through the morning quiet. Glancing at the time, I saw it was 6:30 AM. Fifteen minutes to meet Peter for our walk to school.
“Ugh,” I muttered under my breath. I quickly threw on clothes, brushed my hair, and added a touch of mascara. Even with minimal makeup, I inherited my father’s striking features—a legacy of being the daughter of the man New York magazines consistently labeled “Sexiest Man in New York.” I rolled my eyes at the thought, then slipped on my shoes. A glance at my custom-built watch—a project from my childhood at age four—read 6:40.
Teeth brushed, I headed for the elevator, grabbing my backpack.
“Friday, lobby, please,” I said.
“Acknowledged, Y/n,” the realistic, slightly computerized voice replied. A grin spread across my face as AC/DC’s “Back in Black” blasted through the speakers, a welcome change from elevator muzak. The doors opened on the lobby, and I dashed out to find Peter waiting. He smiled as I ran toward him, pocketing his phone.
“Right on time. Literally,” he chuckled, and I giggled in response. “I thought you’d forgotten me.”
“Never,” I said, ruffling his hair. He sighed and immediately smoothed it back into place. I rolled my eyes playfully and started walking. Peter caught up.
“Whatever, kid,” he said.
“I’m one month younger than you, Parker. One month,” I retorted, lightly punching his shoulder.
“Still older,” he insisted, his voice tinged with playful defiance.
“Whatever, Parker,” I repeated, a smile playing on my lips.
—After School, a Necessary Detour—
Walking home alone, I’d expected Peter to accompany me, but he’d claimed to be busy. I slipped my earbuds in and cranked up Fall Out Boy.
“We’re going down, down, in an earlier round. And sugar, we’re goin’ down swingin’,” I sang softly. “I’ll be your number one with a bullet. Loaded god complex, cock it and pull it.” Lost in the music, I approached my father’s building, pulling my earbuds out as I reached the glass doors. Stepping off the elevator, I froze. Peter was standing with my father, and they were… talking.
“Yeah, kid, you can keep the suit and everything,” my father was saying to Peter.
“Ahem,” I interjected, drawing their attention. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, um, Peter here got an internship,” my father explained, patting Peter’s shoulder. Peter flinched at the contact. I regarded them both with suspicion.
“So… this has something to do with a suit?” I asked, my voice level. They exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them.
“Well, your dad said I could have a tux, and I was wondering if I could keep it,” Peter said. I nodded slowly.
“But why didn’t you just walk with me?” I asked, my tone softening. He glanced at my father and shrugged. “It’ll be nice seeing someone I actually enjoy being around in this building more often,” I added, smiling at my father. He returned the smile, until he realized what I’d implied. I laughed, patting Peter’s shoulder as I walked past.
Reaching my room, I pressed my ear against the door, straining to hear anything more.
“That was close,” Peter murmured.
“Yeah, we can’t have her finding out you’re an Avenger,” my father replied.
My blood ran cold. An Avenger? And he hadn’t told me—or Ned? I’d thought we were his best friends. I sank onto my bed, my mind racing. That explained the sudden muscular build. But what were his powers? Before I could formulate a question, a knock echoed on my door.
“Come in!” I called out. The door clicked open, and Peter stepped inside. I smiled, and he returned it.
“So, you work here now?” I asked.
“Y-yeah, I guess so,” he stammered.
“So we get to hang out even more. It’s gonna be awesome,” I said, pretending ignorance. “Do you get to meet the Avengers?”
“I-um, m-maybe,” he stammered.
“They’re pretty awesome. Who’s your favorite?” I pressed. He visibly sweat, his gaze darting away. “And have you seen Spider-Man? He’s effing awesome!”
“Y-yeah. I g-guess he i-is,” he mumbled.
“I haven’t met him yet,” I said. “I want to, though.”
“Yeah, I heard he’s pretty awesome,” Peter said. I leaned my head on his lap, exhaustion washing over me.
“Thank god it’s Friday. I’m so tired,” I confessed. When I looked up at him, his face was flushed. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, n-nothing. Me too,” he mumbled.
“Lay down with me, then,” I offered. He hesitated, then succumbed, lying down beside me. “Have you talked to Liz since she moved away?”
“No, I feel like it would be too awkward. She hates me now, remember?” He said. “Besides, I like someone else.”
“Who?” I asked, curiosity piqued.
“You probably wouldn’t know her. She’s really beautiful, though. Her eyes… her hair… there’s just something about her that makes her perfect.” He said, lost in his description. A knot formed in my stomach, a strange mix of anger and sadness. Was this jealousy? Was I jealous?
“Cool. I like someone too, I guess. I really don’t know,” I said, wondering if he’d pick up on my subtle probe. He stared at me, confusion etched on his face.
“What’s he like?” he asked.
“Well, he’s dorky, also has beautiful eyes, and his hair is perfect. I get this weird feeling when I’m around him, and when he talks about other girls, I get jealous, so, yeah, I guess I do like him,” I admitted. Peter’s expression tightened. Weird. “Anyway, can we please just take a nap. All this lovey dovey crap is making me tired.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, turning his back to me. I pulled a blanket over us both. He turned to face me, and I snuggled close, a blush creeping onto my cheeks. He wrapped his arm around me, and I savored the warmth. Minutes later, I heard soft snores beside me. I smiled, and drifted off to sleep myself.