darling [peter parker]

emotions!

Wendy didn't want to go to school, but she did.

Even though going to school meant leaving the safety of her room and changing out of her pajamas. Even though going to school meant having to look presentable and having to do work. Even though going to school meant seeing people. Even though going to school meant seeing Peter.

She dressed a little nicer than normal and took the time to do her makeup - she figured the better she looked, the less likely people would be to ask her if she's okay. She knew she couldn't handle that question today. She tried to avoid talking to people when she first got there. She went straight to her locker. She could feel his eyes on her. Her blood curdled.

She looked over her shoulder to see him watching her from his locker. The bags under his eyes were a lot more prominent than they were last night when he'd whipped off his mask and ruined her life. She got a little bit of a kick out of the idea that he hadn't gotten any sleep. A smirk curled her lips and she flicked her hair over her shoulder. It was then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She was wearing red.

His lips on her neck, her fists full of fabric, her head tilted back, as he murmured into her skin, "You should wear red more often."

Giggling. "Yeah?'

"Yeah." Grinning. "Red and blue are the best colors, in my completely unbiased opinion."

She bit her lip. She hadn't done it on purpose, though maybe some subconscious part of her had. She fought a scowl. Red and blue were Peggy Carter colors. Not Spider-Man colors. He would not ruin them for her. She puffed out her chest, pulled her things from her locker, and slammed it shut.

He would not ruin her.

Any sorrow had been purged from her body, converted into white-hot anger that coursed through her veins and burned in her chest. He spent the entire day looking at her with such a melancholy expression that it took everything within her not to deck him. How dare he be sad? He brought this on himself - on her. This entire disaster was his fault. He didn't have the right to feel sad.

She found herself scribbling down things in a random document on her google drive. Every time he glanced at her, every time he looked away with sad puppy eyes, every time he sighed or just generally breathed, she abused her keyboard to type out a bitter comment, such as:

sorry i look so good in red ?? not my fault lol

mmm bet it feels like shit to see me so composed when you're clearly falling apart congrats you've played yourself

lol imagine being so pressed over the fact that we have mutual friends

you think you're sad?? have you even stopped to imagine how i feel right now?? smh men are trash!!

i'm aware i look good today you can stop ogling me now you've lost your rights lmao

why are you so upset i;m acting like nothing happened?? isn't that better for the sake of your secret identity?? have you considered picking a lane??

i can tell by the look in your eyes that you miss me and you know what?? i don't blame you. i'm fucking awesome. can't believe you had me and you fucked it up. and don't expect a second chance i've already done so much for charity lol

Every line eased the pain. Instead of agonizing over being lied to and played like a fiddle, she entertained herself by thinking of how miserable he was. It really helped. It helped so much none of her friends noticed anything was wrong. It helped so much that she felt good again.

He couldn't ruin her, no matter how hard he tried.

Eventually, the lines transitioned into something else. After digging through her computer at lunch and uncovering an old project from her AP music theory class, the snipes and jabs evolved. Her anger evolved. Her emotions fluctuated and by the time cheer rolled around, Wendy wasn't sure what she felt anymore besides excitement because finally, she had an idea for a routine for the pep rally.

She practically danced to cheer. This was it. So many times in her life she'd asked herself why and she thought she finally figured it out. All of it led up to this. This day of emotions and evolution and inspiration. All of the heartache and the tears and the exhaustion was all for this singular moment of, I am so much more than I thought I was.

Mrs. Wayland approached Wendy looking a little gray in the face. "I'm so sorry about last time. I-have you come up with any solid ideas?"

"I don't have an idea," Wendy retorted. "I have the idea."

Mrs. Wayland's face softened and she gave the short girl a warm smile. "Let's hear it, Carter." Wendy turned to face the squad. They all stared at her, eagerly awaiting. Erin and Angie looked confused because she certainly hadn't shared any ideas with them.

Wendy clapped her hands together. "My idea is risky. It's original, it's jaw-dropping, and it's unlike anything we've ever done before." And just like that, she had them hooked. The squad exchanged looks and whispers, their lips curling into excited grins.

"Is this idea going to make the principal have words with me?" Mrs. Wayland asked, furrowing her brow.

Wendy had never felt as powerful as she did when she replied, "If we pull this off right, we'll leave them speechless."

*

me?? updating?? it's a hanukah miracle folks