You guys are asking really great questions about characters and setting, as well as elements of the story or universe that really give me some great food for thought. Continuity continues to be a pain in the ass, so if you see something that makes you go '? - that can't be right', let me know! I'll miss things in the long run, so having you guys point it out to me is always a massive help. Shoutout to neumann for pointing out the error in Chapter 6 - May had already met Michelle, so I changed that around.

Some recommendations for this chapter: Ready or Not by Bridgit Mendler, Dancing on Quicksand by Bad Suns, Stay by Zedd and Alessia Cara, High on Humans and Ultralife by Oh Wonder.

They're perfect for the scene about halfway through this chapter - I went clichéd and added a party. It'll lead to some interesting revelations.

Also, Peter Parker may end up looking more like Tom Holland in this chapter, so if you're looking for some understanding of his outfit, please reference these pics:

. /pin/402579654181836296/

. /pin/442689838358372794/

. /pin/AeeQY-9cGjocx_at_eAbLeggq9Kl6d69d3HrVRFcLV73NHTnxUmCVAw/

. /pin/308426274470943899/

I have no particular ideas about it - I've described something or other, but feel free to imagine it how you want. All you need to know is that he looks great *laughs* Just go look up Tom Holland on Pinterest and go for whatever you like - just go crazy, kids.

Anyways, enjoy!

Even with Ned's somehow 'wise' advice, Peter sat at lunch the next day still in firm denial that he was ever going to confess to Michelle, even if the heavens split open and the Apocalypse came.

Dramatic, yes, but he was feeling a desperate need to be understood.

It didn't matter if he did want to be her boyfriend or not.

It all seemed like too much of a foreign concept to him – one that made him wonder how ridiculous he looked when he gazed after her. Ned informed him he looked stupidly creepy, but that wasn't really answering the question.

The idea of 'boyfriend' confused him a lot. It felt too much of clichéd term to actually be taken seriously, but at the same time, it was probably one of the most important relationships teenagers could have. Broadly speaking, the only understanding of romance that he'd seen for himself had been between May and Ben. Sure, it was a comfortable setting where he never really questioned how they felt about each other, but he'd always been aware of how openly in love they'd been. They'd had their arguments, of course: where May, under so much stress from work and home life, had ended up crying, or when they'd argued over something that seemed so trivial the next day.

But they'd been in love. They'd flirted and laughed and had fun and been fun to live with.

It was an insight into how love ought to be – how it often became so comfortable and natural, even when it did have its pitfalls in the road to being happy.

But this crush? This stupid thing he'd latched onto?

Peter snorted to himself, as he pierced his fork into some of his chips, skewering them on the prongs.

Yeah, it still kind of scared him a little.

He'd never actually dated someone. Liz had been a crush that had actually come to something, but had then drifted away again without so much as a second glance.

It'd left him feeling like someone had cut a gaping hole out of his chest, expecting him not to bleed out.

He didn't really appreciate that sentiment.

But he supposed he didn't have much of a choice – Liz was gone. She wasn't coming back. After her Dad had been thrown in jail, her mother had made the executive decision to move, Liz having to comply whether she'd wanted to or not. Peter still remembered her words to him:

I hope you figure out whatever's going on with you.

He somehow thought he'd yet to honour her parting advice, but maybe it wasn't such an easy process in the long run. Figuring out his life? How to cope with being a superhero and a teenager?

Trying to figure out his newfound infatuation with Liz's old teammate?

Yeah, this wasn't going to be short at all.

Ned, sitting beside him as he mutely ate his lunch, watched as Michelle came over, tray joining their table as she slid into her seat, hand holding her book as her other multi-tasked. The light streaming in through the windows lit up her skin, making it glow like bronze, lips again painted in some faint, burnt orange lipstick. Peter couldn't help it anymore – those little details were killing him. He couldn't help but pick them out – how the collar of her white shirt stuck out at one side, or how she had a mole sitting right on the back of her forefinger's knuckle, or how –

Wait –

"MJ, is that a – have you got a purple streak in your hair?"

Michelle's head snapped up, gaze temporarily torn from her current book, 'Men Explain Things to Me'. Peter had certainly never heard of it, but it seemed interesting; he really needed to start reading more.

Her gaze narrowed a little, just as he caught sight of the streak again – a soft violet against the raging curls of her hair, spiralling in amongst the dark brown. It was crazy – how hadn't he noticed it before?

"Yeah. What about it?"

Ned looked slightly confused, not-so-subtly leaning forward to try and get a better glance at the said streak. Michelle shot him a confused look, just as she turned back to Peter. He had a coy smile on his face, running a quick hand through his hair.

"It's really pretty. Weird I never noticed it before. It – it suits you,"

Michelle stared at him, her heart suddenly feeling very constrained inside her chest, book feeling heavy in her hand. She laid it down on the table, staring at him without so much as a glare on her face.

He stared right back, blinking once or twice at her in confusion – had he said something wrong?

Then, in some strange twist of fate – perhaps the world was being nice for a change – Michelle smiled.

It wasn't the mocking smile she had, when she knew she'd said something so damning you'd be as well never coming into school again.

It certainly wasn't the sharp smile she used when she'd won the argument.

It was some soft, genuine smile that seemed to make her eyes bright and her expression open – as if she was managing to not be cynical for the first time in her life.

"Thanks, loser," she quipped, shaking her head a little in disbelief, the smile widening as she averted her eyes, hand holding down her page as the book remained on the table.

Peter stared on.

Ned continued to try to see the streak.

Michelle tried to concentrate on the words in front of her, but something was bothering her. Like something forcing her to look at it, just because it was just off the corner of her vision. Like it wouldn't leave her alone until she made a point of remedying it.

She paused, looking up at him again. She noted how his hair had the gel in it again today, but he seemed to have purposefully left it a little untamed at the back, letting the waves go a little wild.

"Thanks - Peter," she said again, something in her voice hitching when she used his name.

His eyes seemed to freeze, just as his face seemed to break out into a grin, all teeth and crinkles at his dark eyes, the irises suddenly looking a little coppery in the light.

Somehow, this light was casting too many things into the open as they looked at each other, Ned finally sitting down in satisfaction as he'd caught sight of the now infamous violet streak in Michelle's hair.

"No problem, MJ. You should get another one, like – brighter. From the middle to the end." He motioned at the crown of her head, right down to the tips of her curls.

He was still wearing that crazy grin. It was making her feel a little warm - like when you put on a sweater on a cold day.

"Maybe I will," she said, tilting her chin up at little as she smirked, turning back to her book.

This boy was eating her heart out.

x x x

Decathlon practice that afternoon became yet another occasion for Flash to start advertising himself, which wasn't all that surprising, considering that Flash felt he ought to be on advertisements.

"This better be a good interruption on our break, Thompson," Michelle snapped, irritated by the smug look on his face. He never seemed able to accept that his roguish behaviour – as well as being a downright bully to people – wasn't winning him any points ever. Yet he still kept it up – if not for him, the whole 'Penis Parker' joke would have died down ages ago.

Flash was the only one determined to make a mockery of him – like some piñata that still hadn't been hit enough.

Michelle actually thought it quietly hilarious that if the two ever were to engage in some reckless fistfight, Peter would floor him without even trying.

It still weirded her out that under the check shirts and ill-fitting gym uniform and big hoodies, Peter Parker was actually in the best shape of his life.

It also was messing with her temperature, but that was an entirely different problem.

"I'm having a party tonight – you're all invited,"

Michelle raised an eyebrow, the rest of the Decathlon team looking at him with a mixture of contempt and confusion.

Sally was the first to speak.

"Seriously, Flash? You're inviting us?"

She didn't sound the least bit convinced – Michelle admired her no-nonsense attitude; she never let anyone forget that she didn't stand for false friendship.

He snorted in reply, legs propped up on another chair as he turned to her, study notes in hand.

"Duh. You're the losers I literally spend my entire academic life with – if I don't, I'm essentially saying that academic achievement means nothing to me,"

"Charming, Flash. And exactly what does that make us to you?"

Cindy didn't sound impressed either. She was sitting at the edge of the stage, slender legs hanging out over it, clad in dark jeans and a gypsy top, denim jacket in a pile beside her. She was currently threading her laces through her shoes again, since she'd claimed they 'weren't threaded properly' when she'd bought them.

Flash seemed stumped by this question, making Cindy smirk back at him, her smile reminiscent of a Queen having sentenced a prisoner to death, her dark hair falling around her shoulders in sheets, equally dark eyes calling him to war with her. She knew full well that Flash Thompson felt more than complete indifference towards them – but she was nothing if she wasn't going to make him say it.

Michelle thought she looked a little pale, though. Like she'd been sick the day before.

He sighed furiously, shaking his head once as he turned away his gaze, looking at his feet.

"Maybe I just want you guys there, alright?"

The team seemed silenced, Cindy looking more than a little pleased she'd managed to get the confession so quickly.

Seymour seemed unsure.

"What, seriously? Even Parker? "

Peter's head snapped out of his daydream, looking to Seymour.

"Huh?"

Flash barked out laughter.

"If he thinks he can make it without interrupting his hot date with Spider-Man, then sure," his signature smirk had returned, but it looked a little strained.

Peter glared at him from the stand, just as Abe hit the bell.

"So you're admitting we're your friends?"

Some laughter rippled across the team, Seymour snorting into his water bottle as he took a gulp. Flash did not look impressed.

"Don't be stupid, Seymour -"

The bell was hit again, Ned taking this opportunity.

"Is Peter your friend as well now?"

Peter shoved him in the ribs under the desk.

"No! I'm just saying you should come! Holy shit, man-"

"Language, Flash," Mr Harrington had finally arrived, having been sick for nearly a week beforehand, with some stomach bug he'd tried to tell them about, the likes of which they wished they could forget about. The details had been horrifyingly unnecessary.

"Sorry, sir," he looked a little flustered, as he furiously stared down at his notes, making the rest of the Decathlon team try to choke back laughter.

Seymour hit the bell.

"Welcome back, sir," he said enthusiastically. "Don't tell us about the stomach bug again,"

Mr Harrington shook his head in disbelief.

"Yes, thank you, Seymour. Glad to be back." He turned to Michelle, who was busy shuffling the cards with a purpose.

"Right, Michelle – let's get going with the questions."

Michelle nodded, looking to Peter and Ned.

"OK, first question –"

x x x

After a very jumbled conversation on the way out of the main doors, as school finished that Wednesday, Peter and Ned had invited Michelle to meet up with them, under the condition that they both come wearing something a little more presentable that what they usually wore to school. It wasn't that their style was bad, per se, but rather that:

"It looks like you can't be assed to look good,"

Peter and Ned had glanced at each other behind her back, as they'd walked along, having agreed to take her home before both him and Ned went to his apartment to get ready.

"I resent that," Peter said, smirking behind his mock frown. Michelle glared at him, brushing her hair back from her face. She had on black jeans and brown leather boots, laced up, with her white shirt and denim jacket over it, hair loose down her back.

Peter thought she looked gloriously like herself.

That was, to say – absolutely the loveliest thing he'd ever seen.

Who even cared anymore – Michelle was intelligent and witty, yes - but she was beautiful. Yes, maybe not in the same way Liz had been.

But she just glowed in the April sunshine, like some honey coloured dream from the Greek Myths, hair untamed and tongue much the same.

He couldn't help but stare at her.

He'd finally caught up on the inch again, after her having a grown a bit as well. But even as he walked along beside her, now exactly the same height, he had no doubt she'd gain that inch again and he would never catch up after that.

It seemed even MJ could beat him at stupid games like that as well.

"Then what do we wear? Because I am not coming in a suit, if that's what you think,"

Michelle burst out laughing, biting her lip as she tried to contain it.

Shit, that was way too attractive, Peter thought, rolling his eyes to himself.

"Jesus Christ, Parker, no. I'm just saying – smarten up. Do your hair. I'm not turning up to a party with a dress on if you two are going to come like you've dressed in the same outfit from yesterday."

"There's nothing wrong with my fashion taste. And since when do you care about fashion?" he pouted in annoyance, Ned laughing alongside.

"I'll wear my hat," he mused, just as they turned round the corner to Michelle's apartment, leading her to the door.

She turned back to them, key in one hand, other holding the strap of her satchel.

"I don't - I just know how to decide when to give a crap. Whatever, you two. I'll see you at 7."

As she closed the door after her, Peter and Ned looked at each other, knowing exactly what they needed to do.

"May," they said in unison, as they began walking the other way, now on the path to Peter's apartment, hopefully with a certain Aunt ready to help the both of them.

Sometimes living with your aunt was a blessing on Earth.

x x x

"A party? Like the one you went to at Liz's that time?"

Peter nodded mutely, Ned along with him. May looked slightly confused by the pair of them, like she couldn't decide if they were lying or not, because Peter and Ned were terrible liars. But this didn't sound like one.

"Do you know what you're wearing?"

Peter cast Ned a side glance, who was looking more bewildered by the moment.

"Well, we thought that – you know, you could help us -"

May smirked, dumping the dishcloth she was holding on the counter, coming around to lean against it, arms folded.

"You want me to dress you?"

Peter's eyes widened, blinking once.

"No, May! God, no, I just -" He sighed heavily, putting his hands on his hips in defeat.

"MJ wanted me and Ned to try and – smarten up," he said it like it was something to be embarrassed about, but May just smiled, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"Right," she smiled.

Peter shook his head, folding his own arms to imitate her pose.

"Just – yeah, we need your help. Please?" He slapped his hands together in a prayer, teeth clenched in hope, which had May laughing, hands now on her hips as she came forward and fixed his collar.

"Right, both of you. Follow me. Let's see can we make you both look like Hollywood movie stars,"

"Good luck with that," Ned muttered, making Peter smirk back at him as they followed May from the room.

x x x

At least an hour later, Peter and Ned stood in front of the mirror, staring at each other with looks of utter bewilderment. How May had managed it, they had no idea. They didn't look like themselves.

"Peter," Ned said, as he stared at his friend in the mirror.

"Uh, yeah?"

Peter felt something hot swirling in his stomach, the nerves making it plummet, as he continued to stare at himself, not sure if it was really Peter Parker staring back at him.

He'd never seen himself as attractive. He'd always thought he looked – well, just as himself. Peter Parker – stellar nerd and secret superhero.

Peter Parker – definitely not on the cover of Vogue anytime soon, or ever, in his lifetime.

"We look amazing! MJ's gonna be floored!" Ned looked way too excitable, but his bubbly enthusiasm was infectious, making Peter break out in a grin.

"She's gonna be weirded out, that's for sure," he said, just as they burst into fits of laughter, snorting through their noses as they went to grab their jackets.

Tonight was certainly going to be interesting.

x x x

Michelle had never been a person who kept time well – she often lost track of it as her literature tore her away from the real world, often zoning out of reality for such a long time that people used to have to shake her to say the bell had rung.

She was never a stickler for being on time. If people were a little late, it wasn't an issue – things never started on their time anyways. Certainly not parties. People just arrived and then just kept arriving.

But standing out on a warm, spring evening, as people swarmed by - the lights of Flash's house on outside, with her standing alone on the pavement by the tree in the street - wasn't exactly how she'd imagined it all.

Michelle wasn't all that savvy with parties – she never felt like she totally fit into them, since they were usually filled with the people that had rejected her friendship on the basis that she was making shit too real all the time.

Or something. She'd never fished for the details.

Yet looking down at her outfit, she didn't know if that reasonably conveyed that message, since it absolutely looked like she'd made the biggest effort known to man.

Well. The biggest effort known to man for Michelle.

She'd found yet another dress she'd understandably stashed to the back of her closet, since she usually avoided the things in lieu of her long skirts and multiple pairs of jeans. It was a longish, bright, yellow-orange dress, coming down to just above her knee, coming in at the waist, with a fairly straight skirt. She'd opted for her denim jacket over it, the collar pulled up. She did not usually wear something this bright - especially one that had no pattern on it, with just a skinny, light brown leather belt around the waist for detail, the dress itself made of some chiffon-like material that floated around her legs when she moved.

She'd had no shoes for such an occasion, however. So she'd had to improvise.

She hoped to God that Peter and Ned had gotten the memo for 'look smart'. No way was she standing here in this ridiculous – yet passably nice – dress, only for them to turn up in the same hoodies and checked shirts they'd only just got away with wearing for three days straight.

(She secretly rather liked the dress, though – it warmed up her skin tone, making her dark eyes appear slightly golden in particular shades of light).

Just as she was preparing to turn around and leave, she saw May's car pull up, clearly with the two boys inside, but it was too far away to see what they'd come in. May turned to what evidently was Peter in the seat beside her, muttering what looked like some advice he'd probably forget within the hour. He nodded once.

The car doors opened, and out stepped Peter and Ned, waving to May as she drove past, stepping into the evening light as Michelle watched from near the tree.

They caught sight of her, both grinning wildly as they jogged over to meet her.

And Michelle could barely believe her eyes.

Peter Parker and Ned Leeds did not look like Peter Parker and Ned Leeds.

They hadn't abandoned their geeky nature – not at all – because they both were wearing clothes that looked mildly reminiscent of their normal attire.

But that was where the similarities ended.

It started off much the same at the bottom. Parker's burgundy hi-top baseball shoes and dark, denim jeans, slim fit around his legs.

But something happened at the top and it was sending Michelle's crush-induced brain into meltdown.

Parker had somehow decided (probably not of his own accord) that wearing a plain, dark t-shirt, tight around his frame, with a dark, coffee brown shirt, left open at the front, with a sculpted black leather jacket thrown over his shoulders - the collar sitting up against his cheekbones - had been the way to go, but his hair was –

His hair was amazing. She had to outright admit it.

It'd been styled and swept over, the natural waves in their full glory, left to run wild on his head, as they fell about the side of his face, stray locks sitting raised in the great wave that had been brushed back. He looked like some old style rockstar from the sixties, except modern and real and here and -

Michelle tried to remember how she breathed.

His hands were shoved in his jean pockets, nervously shifting on his feet.

"Hey," he tried, smiling gently, instead looking down at her feet. Her dress was shocking, to say the least –bright and outrageous, but beautiful in that truly unique, Michelle way.

But she'd somehow partnered it with the most fanatical, vibrant, lemon yellow DM boots, denim jacket on her shoulders, hair a free-falling cascade of brown and gold curls, that one violet streak cast in a dark magenta in the evening light.

She had a dark orange lipstick on this time. He could tell it was a different shade – a bolder one.

But Michelle couldn't understand it – Peter Parker suddenly looked –

Well.

He looked hot.

He looked attractive. In the way most people thought of it. Like he'd stepped out of a magazine, and that hair –

Man, she felt like she needed to sit down.

"Yo," she replied, jumping into step beside Ned as they made their way up the path, the music now becoming clearer as they got closer to the open door. Ned had opted for a casual affair, dark shirt buttoned up loosely, with jeans and a formal jacket on top, his hat perched on his head, his converse also on his feet. He looked dapper – pulling off a modern attempt on the look of the 1930's. It suited him well.

"So, who dressed you guys? Because I know this -" - she motioned to their fashion choices – "was not accomplished alone."

Peter and Ned exchanged glances, just as Peter leant around his friend, looking at her with a laugh in his smile.

"It was May. We asked for her help. This was what she came up with,"

Michelle sniffed, trying to ignore the thumping of her heart as she looked at him, still insanely addled as to how Peter Parker had been keeping that look under wraps for so long, hidden beneath the checked shirts and stupid gym uniform. This was discovering her crush all over again.

"Tell her to dress you more often," she said, face breaking out into a grin at Peter's pout.

The three of them burst into laughter.

x x x

Entering into the party wasn't quite as easy to do as a group – although the place was packed, people milling about, drinks in hand, as they talked about who knew what - Peter, Michelle and Ned all felt like they'd wandered into the wrong place. Everyone else felt like they belonged there – as if they mixed in with the background seamlessly. Even with May's magic handiwork with Peter's hair, it seemed like the geeky feel all three of them radiated was a permanent feature of their person.

Michelle didn't give two shits. She loved being who she was – she'd just been invited to a party by a guy who had very different external interests compared to her and her two best friends.

Yes. Peter and Ned were now officially her boys. The ones she hung out with from now on.

She was standing proudly beside them in her tangerine/yellow dress and DM boots. That was more than enough to prove how determined she was about that friendship.

"Well, I need a drink. Coming?" She turned to the both of them, who were standing a little awkwardly at the door, much like they had done at Liz's party – almost a year ago. Michelle was struck by how much had happened since then – sometimes it was too much to take in.

Peter looked suitably uncomfortable, since more than a few people were shooting him and Ned – but mostly him – strange but admiring looks, like they couldn't understand what had happened to him.

It annoyed Michelle only a little bit – it wasn't like he'd had thin hair in the past; he'd always had pretty thick hair (she'd been paying attention, much as she hated to admit that). He had just never made it look so untamed before on purpose.

It was also slightly annoying her that more than a few girls were glancing at him as they walked by, their conversation lapsing into hushed laughter, making Michelle wonder whether she ought to start scowling behind his back to make them bugger off.

Probably not such a great idea if she was trying to go incognito. She didn't need people staring at her, especially when the whole point of parties was to become one with the crowd, so that people lost identity for a while.

Just as they were making their way to the kitchen, a loud screech from the music stopped them in their tracks, just as Flash's voice came over on the speaker phone.

"Penis Parker is in the house! WHAT IS UP?"

Peter stopped in his tracks, turning towards Flash, who was currently stood behind his equipment, microphone in hand. He was getting serious flashbacks, here. If this was another –

"Where's Spider-Man, my dude? Did he dump you for his date with Tony Stark?" the klaxon went off – Flash's lame attempt at getting to him. Michelle readied her mouth to start snapping insults back – probably involving his own personal superhero crushes and all the embarrassing situations she could think of – but she stopped when she saw Peter's face.

She'd thought perhaps he would be shaking his head in disbelief, or just raising an eyebrow and walking on.

He was doing no such thing. He was standing staring at him, a deeply pained look in his eyes, eyebrows furrowed in both regret and humiliation.

And it hit her in the face.

That was him they were making fun of, yes, but it was something else – the part of him that was doing such good in the world was also being mocked, being used as a cheap joke to get back at him.

They were turning him into a joke – in more ways than they even realized.

Flash's crowd laughed at the insult, just as he fired another one, people looking on.

"Did you get your imaginary girlfriend back? Let me guess, she realized how God awful lame your excuses are and ran off with Spider-Man again?"

Peter bit his lip in annoyance, looking away, just as Flash threw the last bomb.

"And where'd you get your clothes? Did you get them off your uncle?"

Michelle gawked; Ned's jaw dropped. Surely he couldn't have been that insensitive?

That cruel?

Michelle could feel her face contorting into a demonic expression, all teeth and wild hair. She caught a glance of Peter's expression, whose head had whipped up at the statement, eyes wide. The emotion on his face was evident, hitting Michelle across the face like a well-aimed slap.

His lip was now shaking, glaring at Flash, even though his eyes had the slightest shine on them, hinting to tears.

Michelle whipped her head back to Flash, whose expression had cleared the minute he'd realized what he'd said – he looked more shocked at himself than the tears in Peter's eyes.

Everyone had known about his uncle – that he'd been killed by some thief who'd been let slip. No one had been brave enough to ask him the details. Michelle had watched Peter skip lunch for nearly two weeks, over the top of her book. She'd seen him in in the gymnasium on his own, face tear-stained, head buried in his hands as he tried to get it out before the next bell rang.

She even remembered how he'd nearly vomited in class one time, and how Ned had rushed him from the classroom before he'd given Flash more ammunition.

Apparently he'd already given him some when his uncle had died.

Michelle didn't even know what she was doing when he grabbed Peter's hand, gripping it firmly, giving a comforting squeeze as she turned her fury on Flash.

"Eugene. Thompson. You go fuck yourself before I make you wish you'd never seen the light of day, so help me if you talk to either of my best friends like that again."

Flash looked like someone had announced the day he would die - no one called him Eugene – not even that many people new that was what his actual name was. He was called Flash on so many occasions that many had even forgotten his real name.

Michelle had done no such thing.

Peter's expression had changed to one of dumb, blank shock, the tears having slipped down his cheek a little, but Michelle just continued on holding his hand, lacing her fingers as deeply into his own as she could manage. She hadn't realized how strong they'd be.

They were strong hands – hands that would comfort and help others.

Hands that she wished would hold hers more often.

Michelle turned to Ned, who seemed to have lost all ability to speak.

"I said I needed a drink. Come on, let's go," she turned to the kitchen in front of them, people still walking about but clearly aware that something had happened. Peter had wiped his tears away from his face, still looking suitably fresh faced despite it.

As they walked towards the kitchen, Michelle flipped Flash two fingers, her face obscured by the wall as she disappeared behind it.

He seriously needed his mouth sewn shut for his own good, as well as everyone else's.

Dipping into the kitchen, Michelle started the search for something to drink as Peter and Ned stood off to one side, talking quietly.

"You guys like ginger beer? It's non-alcoholic."

Peter nodded absently, as she poured three glasses for them all, shoving them into their hands as she took a sip of her own.

"Flash is a dick – in case that wasn't already clear," Michelle said, casting a glance back at the rest of the house. The argument seemed to have been smoothed over, the music still loudly vibrating through the house, but it was evident that they were being given a wide berth.

Michelle sniffed. That was fine.

Peter seemed to be very quiet, looking into his glass with a slightly pained expression.

"You didn't need to do that, you know."

Michelle snorted, making him look up in surprise.

"Of course I did. Like I said – Flash is a dick. It was a sick joke and he deserved to be yelled at for it. I think even he knows that."

She took a drink.

"And anyway. I don't let people talk to my friends like that." She took another gulp, letting the sugar fill her mouth with the fizz, ignoring the very openly raw look on Peter's face, his mouth parted like he wanted to say something but couldn't think how to go about it.

Both Peter and Ned seemed a little unsure what to make of that statement, but Ned seemed content to let it pass without comment. Peter didn't seem to know what to say either, but he looked ready to try.

"You don't need to thank me," Michelle snapped in before he could say a word, looking him straight in the eye. She was pleased to know she hadn't lost any height on him. He was at her own height at the moment, but she was still growing – she would get tall enough so that he wouldn't be able to catch up - one day.

Peter nodded his head slowly, hair falling in front of his face as he stared down into his glass. He seemed entranced by the liquid, refusing to look up again. Michelle bit her lip in worry, as Ned patted his shoulder awkwardly, saying,

"I'm going to see if I can find the rest of the Decathlon team. You wanna come, Peter?"

Peter shook his head. Ned frowned, but went on without him.

Michelle continued to watch on, even as she saw his shoulders tense up and his posture stiffen, standing up straight despite how weak he looked; it was like he'd been kicked into silence.

She couldn't take it.

She nearly smashed her glass down on the counter behind her as she reached for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she gave him – probably the shortest – hug out there. It was over almost instantly, but she didn't miss the way he'd let his face sink into her shoulder in that brief time, hair tickling her neck. He'd relaxed in that short space, even as she'd pulled away. She untangled her arms from around his neck, a small, uncontrollable part of her wishing she could allow herself to hold on for a little longer, and let her fingers acquaint themselves with the curls of his hair, and let his breath ghost over her face as his arms came around her, holding her for dear life.

She wished, and once again, knew she couldn't have.

"You know, Parker – it's fine to cry about things like that. I know you did the first time. It's not a new thing – grief, I mean. Don't say sorry for being caring."

Grabbing her drink again, she headed for the door, unable to look straight at him – he was gazing at her in some delicate way that made her heart flutter a little, his eyes looking far too deep into her own. She tossed her hair away from her face again.

"Don't get lost in here, Loser."

She turned and walked away, her skin feeling like it was on fire.

Minutes passed – maybe at least twenty – and Michelle made the point of wandering about, as she often did, observing people as they walked past her. Nobody seemed to notice her, even though she was not at all inconspicuous in the dress she was wearing. It didn't matter that maybe they wanted to talk to her – very few did anyways. But they became so invested in their own conversations that Michelle simply drifted in and out of theirs instead.

It was only when she turned to look at the door that she saw Peter walking past, phone in hand, a text having clearly come in, obvious from the glaring, blue message bubbles on his phone, which she only caught a glimpse of before he pocketed the device. He certainly seemed in a rush to be gone, running a nervous hand through his hair, which Michelle decided was uncannily hot despite how he usually fell under the category of 'cute' - in that innocent, boyish way that some guys never truly escaped from.

He did not need to escape from it, she thought - but she was making no complaints about him being different types of attractive.

His head turned to look for Ned, most likely, but they instead landed upon her. His eyes widened slightly, the dark irises still looking gentle, even from this distance. Michelle narrowed hers in response, but her lips stayed in a permanent, worried frown.

She was telling him across the distance:

Where are you going now, Parker?

His gaze hardened, pulling his leather jacket tightly around him as he opened the door, disappearing behind it, just as Ned appeared at her arm, clearly confused by the entire situation.

"Hey, Michelle – have you seen Peter?"

"No," she said instantly, before turning to him properly, handing him her glass.

"Sorry, Ned, I have to go,"

"But MJ, you only just got here!"

Michelle tilted her chin, making a point of staring him down. Ned returned her look with a curious squint.

"I was never really here, Leeds,"

She half-ran in the direction of the front door, Ned's voice calling after her,

"You always say that, though!"

Michelle shut the door behind her, the music and noise cutting off instantly. She had to admit it was a relief to her ears – sometimes you never realized how noisy it was until you escaped it. Looking to the sky almost instantly, she was just able to make out the remnants of spider web hanging from the roof.

Synthetic spider web.

Hardening her stare, she set off down the road at a sprint, knowing the next bus would be here within the next ten minutes or so.

What? She'd come to learn the schedules pretty well.

But she'd had enough of all of it.

She'd had enough of Peter sneaking off. She'd had enough of being kept in the dark. She'd had enough of chasing after her best friend as she fell for him, never sure what to do with herself when he was in the room, and never knowing for sure how he felt about her.

Michelle Jones was sick of being a side character in her own story.

She was going to catch him this time, and that was final.

Damn you, Peter – why do you keep making me chase after you?

She already knew the answer.

And so begins the last arc of this little story... hard to believe, actually. I never thought I would get through it this quickly, and certainly not with the response I've received.

Hopefully you'll like what I have planned for the last three chapters. I think it'll have you all surprised.

Reviews and kudos are always appreciated!