Cover me Up
Opening the door of the classroom, y/n felt all eyes on her. The squeak of the door didn’t help, and all the heads in the room turned to her for a brief moment before turning back to the teacher at the front.
Among those heads was Peter’s, who lingered on her for a bit longer, offering a warm smile that made the room just a little bit brighter. Y/n shuffled to the back of the class, trying not to make noise (each footstep an agonizing thump), and claimed her seat next to Peter, pushing the chair in just enough that her balloon thighs were hidden under the desk. He had saved the seat for her, his jacket draped over the back of the chair. That’s what y/n loved about Peter. Even when it felt like she didn’t exist, and the world had carried on without her, when she felt like she was slipping through the cracks, all it took was one act of compassion from Peter to make her feel seen. He always saw her, even when she couldn’t see herself.
“Hey,” Peter whispered. “Where were you?”
“Bike broke down.”
A tiny wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. “Y’know you can always call me, right? I coulda swinged you to school, it must’ve been cold outside.”
“ahem” the teacher was looking at them now, clearly irritated by their loud whispering. Flash smirked as Mr. Hale shot Peter a warning look and turned to the whiteboard again.
It only took five seconds for Peter to start whispering again, only quieter. “And for 45 minutes? Was it the hill? Was it that traffic light that takes forever to let you cross? Or was it a situation like in Interstellar where…”
Peter was joking around now, as he loved making movie references. Y/n, despite loving his passion for movies, wanted out of this conversation desperately. It was just now dawning upon her that her excuse was half-baked, and “my bike broke down” was as far as she had planned.
“But seriously, what happene-”
“Mr. Parker. Is there something you’d like to share with the class? Something so important that you’d like to interrupt this important lesson?” Mr. Hale had a short temper, but Peter never paid him much attention. He preferred the sciences, and was only in English for his graduation requirements.
“nope, sorry,” Peter said, leaning back to his own desk now.
Y/n sighed internally in relief, knowing Peter probably wouldn’t bring up the subject again.
After English, Peter walked y/n to her next class, holding hands with her the entire time. His hands were soft and comforting, melting her ice block hands. He was in his own little world, chatting away with y/n about the latest Star Wars plot, while y/n was stuck in her own head. With each step she took, her legs screamed at her, sore from running at the park the previous day. She had pushed herself to a full mile, which was more than her weak stamina could handle. Not wanting to say anything about it, since she didn’t want to worry Peter, she decided to stay quiet and ignore it, simply smiling and nodding when appropriate.
Soon enough, they had reached her biotechnology class, and they hugged goodbye. They didn’t have very many classes together, so they would see each other again at lunch. Normally, y/n would complain about this, but it was a relief to her now to not have to hide her tears from him. While she didn’t have a lot of friends besides peter and Ned, she enjoyed talking to her classmates. They were mere acquaintances and didn’t know the real her, so she could get away with being someone else. Someone who didn’t hate herself, someone funny, someone smart. She would use this time to focus on class and make jokes with her acquaintances, a few hours of pretend.
Before she knew it, her biotechnology class was over, and then so was her psychology class, and so was her Spanish class. It was as though she had been on autopilot, not thinking or feeling anything since her bathroom meltdown that morning. Tears had dried and she was back to acting again. Y/n didn’t mind the numbness, it made getting academic validation easier. Afterall, she couldn’t be proud of her body, so she had to make herself proud of her smarts.
All that was well and good, and the stomach rumbles were easy to ignore, but now the bell rung for lunchtime, and she’d be seeing Peter in the cafeteria.
She’d be seeing Peter.
And he’d be seeing her.
I wonder if he’ll notice if I don’t show up. I don’t want to eat. I can’t eat.
The temptation to shovel food into her mouth was growing as she walked to the cafeteria, weak legs threatening to buckle. The aroma of different foods lured her closer, the aroma of sandwiches and pizza and rice.
He’ll notice. I was gone this morning, I can’t push my luck. Just one bite. I’ll nibble on just one bite, and he won’t notice, and I’ll be there, and nothing bad will happen.
Nothing bad will happen.