It started in the middle of my algebra test.
I was casually calculating the probability of choosing exactly twelve blue M&Ms given x, y, z, blah blah blah. Honestly, it was the type of thing I could do in my sleep, so I wasn't trying extremely hard. I was almost done with the sixth problem when I got this really high-pitched ringing in my ears.
At first I tried to ignore it, but before long it became too loud for me to focus on anything else. I looked around the room, wondering if anyone else could hear it, but they were all calmly working on their tests. No one was in pain, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
I looked back down at my paper to continue working on the problems, but all the words were kind if fuzzy and dancing around the page. That didn't seem right. But I didn't want to ask the teacher if I could see the nurse because a) she seemed like she was in a really bad mood today and b) she was still mad at me for falling asleep in class yesterday. I had been exhausted from being out as Spiderman all night, but I obviously couldn't use that as an excuse.
I rested my head on the desk, trying to let the cool metal soothe the pain. It didn't work.
"Psst, Peter!" Ned whispered, his voice so low it could barely be heard two feet away. To me, it sounded like a freight train roaring through my head, bursting every blood vessel, trampling every nerve. I fought off a wave of nausea and blinked to steady the room that had begun to tilt before my eyes. Or maybe it was me who was tilting.
Luckily Ned was there to catch me as I tipped out of my seat, or I would have smacked my head on the floor before I knew that I was moving. My chair toppled over too, with a crash that sounded like two planets colliding to me, and like a mild annoyance to everyone else in the room.
"Mr. Parker, Mr. Leeds!" Mrs. Mendoza said sternly from the front of the room. Great, now she had another reason to be mad at me.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Mendoza!" Ned hastily apologized. I would have chimed in as well, but it felt like if I opened my mouth, I would probably throw up. No one wanted that.
Ned obviously saw that I wasn't okay, even apart from the whole falling-out-of-my-chair thing. He was saying something to our teacher, and I think she said something back, kind of angrily, but honestly, I could barely hear anything anymore. The pounding in my head was increasing exponentially, drowning out all other sounds.
Usually nothing can make me cry. At least, very few things can. My uncle dying in my arms, my mentor-ish type person getting mad and taking away the Spiderman suit, having a building dropped on me, those all made the cut. And apparently, a massive headache is also way up there.
Fortunately I did not start crying in the middle of class. That would have been the most embarrassing thing ever. I would have had to change schools. But I did come very close to it.
But because I have the best friend in the history of the universe, there wasn't a chance for a single tear to even enter my eyes. Ned saw that I was close to tears because of the pain, and though I was admittedly a little detached from the world (both my hearing and my sight being impaired by the intense pounding and spinning in my brain), I'm fairly positive he actually yelled at Mrs. Mendoza because she wouldn't let him take me to the nurse. Then he was grabbing me and walking out of the classroom, my left arm slung over his shoulder as I drooped and stumbled stupidly beside him.
I'm also fairly positive that he's going to have detention for the rest of the year for that.
The school nurse gave me some Advil to help ease my migraine, but because of my stupid enhanced metabolism, it did very little to help. And of course I couldn't keep asking her for more or it would look like I was addicted or something.
Ned sat with me the entire time, holding a trash can in case I needed to throw up (which I had unfortunately done about four times already). He did steal a couple more pills when the nurse wasn't looking, which I was incredibly grateful for. They didn't do a whole lot, but they at least cleared my vision a little bit.
"Thanks Ned," I whispered after I got my breath back from throwing up the fifth time.
"For what?" he asked innocently.
"For being here for me, dude."
Ned tilted his head to one side. "Oh, right," he said. "But, I mean, like, it's not something really special. You'd do the same for me."
"That doesn't make it not special, Ned," I smiled, squinting my eyes against the bright lights. Ned immediately noticed my discomfort and turned the lights off, despite the nurse's protests.
"Yeah, well, you're my best friend, Peter." He said simply. "I'll always be there for you."
