DISCLAIMER: I do not own Marvel or Spider-Man. A warning from here that there's gonna be some minor swearing.
...
Chapter Eight
Mo stands in front of her bedroom mirror, chewing her lip, uncertainly. Her jeans are a little snugger than the ones she usually wears to school, and her plain black top ends an inch or so above their waistline; her hair is long and free, curling wildly despite her attempts to tame it. She couldn't be bothered with make-up, choosing to sweep some glitter across her face and go bolder with her eyeliner rather than mess about with YouTube tutorials on the perfect cut crease for eyeshadow. She twists her hands, turning this way and that in the mirror, her stomach swirling.
Back home, house parties were just starting to become a thing. While she hadn't missed the uncomfortably hot houses, bodies crushing into every side of her, or the taste of warm flat beer, she had missed the dancing.
She hasn't danced much since they moved, other than in her room, singing Taylor Swift at the top of her lungs. That has been fun for Spider-Man to see one evening when he'd shown up earlier than his usual time - turns out the boy knew Shake It Off pretty well.
So when MJ suggests going along to Liz's party, her immediate response is a flat out 'no'. Why would she want to surround herself with classmates that don't know or don't like her, downing jelly shots while some idiots crashed around Liz Allan's house like they were on dodgems.
But then MJ mentions the DJ, and the dance floor, and Mo can hear the nights she spent at Unders, the music thrumming through her blood as she danced with her friends, calling to her. And how could she say no?
"Margo?" Her mum is peaking her head in through the door with a smile, "Can I come in?"
"Eh, sure?"
Her mum crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed behind her; Mo straightens her top again before running a hand through her ruly hair.
"You look beautiful."
Mo shrugs, "I look ok."
Her mum moves behind her, hands reaching out to squeeze her shoulders as she grins at her in the mirror.
"You look beautiful," she says. "That Pete boy won't know what hit him."
"Mum!" Mo whines, her face flushing painfully red. "It's not like that!"
Alice raises an eyebrow at her daughter, her expression almost mirroring the one MJ had sent her earlier that day, "Isn't it? He's just a boy, you're just a girl-"
"Stop it," she grumbles, nudging her mother out of her mirror space. Alice holds her hand up placatingly, returning to her perch on the edge of the bed.
"Are you excited?" She asks after a moment, "It's your first big party since we moved."
Mo chews on her lip, hesitating before answering, "I guess."
She checks her phone, and gasps, "Shit! I'm late! We're late!"
Mo grabs her tote bag from the floor and a light jacket, before turning to her mum. Alice is looking at her with soft eyes.
"Mum!"
"My little baby," Alice says, reaching to fold her daughter into her arms. "I'm so proud of you."
"It's just a party, Mum."
"I know but," her mother smooths back some wild strands of hair, "I'm so proud of you for putting yourself out there and making friends. You've been so much brighter recently, so much more like your old self."
Mo shifts in her arms, averting her eyes. Alice sighs, seeing the embarrassment flooding through her daughter, and her heart squeezes painfully at the sight. She looks so much like her father, is so much like her father.
Alice remembers the painfully awkward man who couldn't even look her in the eye the first time they met; how his confidence grew the more they spoke, with each ring of laughter he managed to coax from her.
"Come on, kiddo," she says after a moment, releasing her daughter. "Let's get you to that party."
Her mother leaves, but Mo lingers on the threshold of her room, her gaze moving to her shelf of Spider-Man odds and ends. The latest edition, a rotating disco ball that only lights up blue, whirls silently at the edge. She smiles, and closes the door behind her.
…
Liz's house is already half-way packed when Mo and MJ arrive, but there's no sign of Peter or Ned.
The two girls slip towards the kitchen, making their way through the half-crowds. The thumping bass is loud and it reverberates through Mo's bones. Despite her shyness creeping in, her stomach is already flip flopping with excitement as she eyes up the dance floor.
"Here!" A red cup is thrown into her vision and she almost stumbles back. A senior is looking down at her with a glazed smile, a tie wrapped around his head haphazardly; his shirt is buttoned in the wrong holes so that the middle of it flaps open.
"What's in this?" She asks as he thrusts the cup into her hands.
"Beer," he smirks. She sniffs the cup; it does smell like old man's beer, the kind her Granda used to sneak her a glass of at Christmas, but the overwhelming stench of something purely alcoholic stings her nose as well. She eyes the senior uncertainly.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah!"
She raises the cup to her lips to take a sip, and tries not to grimace at the familiar taste of stale alcohol.
"Woo!" The senior cries before bounding off, his arms full of red cups for unwilling and willing partygoers.
"What's in that?" MJ asks, appearing beside her, a slice of toast in one hand.
"Beer, I think."
"Hm," MJ eyes the cup with some distaste and bites into her toast.
"Oh come on, MJ," Mo grins, sipping from the cup. "We're at a party, what's the worst that can happen?"
"Hey! Margo!" She turns to see Abraham in the kitchen grinning at her, behind him are some of the other Decathlon team members. "Come join us!"
She moves to them with a shy smile, dragging a reluctant MJ behind her.
The first cup goes to her head a little as the girls linger in the kitchen, chatting to some of the Decathlon team as they mill in and out of the small room. The second cup goes straight to her bloodstream, and a thrumming fills her, the beat of the music pulsing through her as she sips from the cup, eyes flitting through the crowd; until they finally land on Peter.
"...look I'm just gonna be myself."
"Peter," Ned is saying as she approaches, "No one wants that."
"Dude."
"Pete!" She cries loudly, almost dropping her cup in her haste to reach him. His eyes go wide at the sudden sight of her, and even wider when she throws her arms around him. He stumbles slightly under her weight, arms moving up to catch her before they can tumble to the ground.
"Mo," he exclaims. She pulls back with a wide grin, and turns to look at Ned, who's standing beside Pete with his mouth hanging open.
"Ned!" She squeals, pushing herself out of Peter's arms to swiftly capture Ned. She gives him a squeeze before standing back to look at them both. "Nice hat!"
"Are you…are you drunk?" Ned asks.
"What? No!" She pauses, "Maybe a little bit. But only enough to be buzzed I think. I'm just happy to see you! Both of you, I mean!"
Pete's ears flare red, and Mo grins at the sight.
"Penis Parker, what's up?" Flash's voice booms out over the mike behind them, and they turn. He's standing behind the DJ desk, a wide grin on his face, "So where's your pal Spider-Man? Let me guess: in Canada with your imaginary girlfriend? That's not Spider-Man, that's just Ned in a red shirt."
The crowd giggles around them and Mo scowls. Before she can even think about it, her red cup is swirling through the air towards Flash's head. The boy ducks at the last minute, just as the small amount of beer that was left splatters across the floor.
"Hey!"
"Shut up, Eugene!" She shouts, "It's a party, no need to be a dick."
The boy's mouth gapes at her for a moment, before she turns her back on him to smile up at Pete.
"Wanna dance with me?"
Pete blinks at her silently.
Mo exchanges a concerned look with Ned, who just shrugs.
"Pete?" She waves a hand in front of his face, "Are you okay?"
"Uh, yeah, sorry, what did you say again?"
"I asked if you wanted to dance with me," she laughs, grabbing his hand. Mo's not sure where this boldness has come from, but she's pretty sure it's something to do with whatever that Senior gave her.
"Uh, yes, totally, yes," he nods a few times.
She turns to pull Peter out onto the makeshift dance floor, but hesitates turning back to Ned.
"Ned," she grins evilly. "Just so you know, I do want Pete to be himself."
The boy splutters at her words as Pete's face turns hot, and she laughs as she pulls him out onto the dance floor. She can hear Flash muttering to himself behind the DJ desk, but pays him no heed as she grabs Peter's hand. He looks a little awkward as she starts to move to the beat, hips twisting and turning in time to the music.
She grins, grabbing his hand and twirling him around until he laughs at her. When he comes to a stop she pulls him close so they can move together. Her chest feels warm as he attempts to mimic her awful shimmying and dad disco moves with a wide smile.
"Mo?"
"Yeah?"
His eyes are twinkling with laughter as he smiles at her, "You're an awful dancer."
"I know!" She cries, "But I don't care!"
She grabs his hand and tugs him towards her. He stumbles into her arms, and she catches him, using his lack of balance to dip him low to the ground. His eyes widen as she leans close.
"You better not drop me," he says.
"I promise," she grins, mock affronted. In the back of her mind, she remembers another night where someone else made the same promise to her.
His gaze molten, and the warm thing in her chest unfurls and blooms, until she can feel it pulsing against her lungs, roots threading through her bloodstream. He leans up, until his nose is almost brushing against hers-
"Peter!"
They glance up to see Ned lingering on the edge of the dance floor. He motions to Pete with his head and the boy sighs.
"I should go talk to him."
"You should," Mo says, pulling the boy up with her until he's towering over her again. He shifts, glancing between her and Ned.
"That was fun," he says eventually. "Uhm…"
"Will you be back?" She asks.
He hesitates, before nodding briskly, "Yeah, I'll be back, once I've, once I've spoken to Ned."
"Cool," she grins; his ears are burning. "I guess…see you later?"
"Sure."
She watches until his and Ned's figures are absorbed by the crowd, lingering on the edge of the dancefloor.
"That was smooth," Mo startles at the sound of MJ's voice, and turns to see her friend standing behind her, toast still in hand.
Mo raises an eyebrow, "How much toast have you pilfered from Liz's kitchen?"
"A girl's gotta eat," MJ says around a mouthful of toast. "Don't try to change the subject."
"I wasn't," Mo replies, hunching into her shoulders. "We were just dancing."
"Bold behaviour from you," MJ says.
Mo's face flushes, the heat crawling up her neck and towards her face, "God, it was, wasn't it?"
"I especially loved the cup throwing at Eugene."
Mo's hands fly over her face, "Shut up."
"About my friend being epic? Never."
"I am mortified."
"You shouldn't be, it was bordering on badass," MJ says. "So do you think Spider-Man will actually make an appearance?"
Mo glances towards where Pete and Ned disappeared into the crowd and shrugs, "Who knows?"
MJ finishes off the last of her toast, "I sort of hope he doesn't."
"Me too, mate," Mo says. She turns her gaze back to her friend, "For now though, we've got a party to enjoy."
She grabs MJ's hand and pulls her towards the dance floor.
"I don't dance," MJ says flatly.
Mo pulls her hand up and spins MJ in a neat little twirl with a wide grin, "That's ok! I can do enough dancing for both of us."
She sways, off beat to the racing tempo Flash is setting behind his deck, her hands moving awkwardly. MJ makes a grab for them but Mo spins out of reach, bumping shoulders against a senior.
"Stop, you can't dance!"
"I don't know, I'm pretty sure I'm dancing right now," Mo grins, moving into a shimmy.
MJ groans, "This is actually painful to watch."
"Brilliant," Mo says. "That's exactly what I was aiming for."
Her friend snorts at her terrible dancing, starting to sway to the beat with more grace than Mo could ever achieve.
"Feel the beat, MJ," Mo cries. "Let it flow through you!"
"You're such a loser," MJ replies back, but a wide grin is spread across her face.
A warm feeling spreads through Mo as she grins back, swaying to the beat.
Peter doesn't come back, and disappointment flutters through her, even as she scours the crowd for him. Although Mo does catch a solemn looking Ned lingering on the edge of the dance floor and pulls him into her dancing shenanigans, much to his delight.
Turns out Ned is an excellent dancer.
And if a red cup happens to spill over Flash's decks, cutting off a particularly bad "I say Penis, you say Parker" chant, then no one could blame her really. She really is just terrible at dancing.
...
A/N: ok so I'm thirteen and a half chapters down and a roll. So hopefully I'll be able to keep posting. Fave, Follow, Review, you know the drill.