People Expect Peter to Explain Himself (He Can’t)
The next couple of weeks were unusual, even in Peter’s atypical life. Peter and Flash started texting (a lot) and Flash’s bullying of Peter had turned into what was more playful teasing than anything else. Peter didn’t think anyone had caught on to the change in tone, but they’d definitely noticed the sudden uptick in interaction between him and Flash. One Monday, when Flash was being particularly attention-seeking, Betty Brant glared daggers at him in P.E. She pulled Peter aside at the end of class, asking if he was all right and loudly proclaiming, “Anyone who thinks it’s cool to be such a dick to you is clearly just jealous.” She raised her voice in time for Flash to walk by, heading into the locker room to change. Flash barely reacted, only looking over his shoulder at Betty, then sliding his eyes over to meet Peter’s. Still moving, he held Peter’s gaze for a beat before the corner of his mouth quirked up. Betty scoffed and rolled her eyes while Peter’s face heated up. He half-listened to Betty’s commiserating words until she left to get changed herself.
At lunch half an hour later, Peter and Ned sat with half-eaten trays; MJ was at the same table, reading Toni Morrison’s Beloved. Peter knew she’d recently been working through Morrison’s novels in order of publication and was in awe of how quickly she could consume entire books. Ned was rambling on about the game he’d been playing lately when Peter felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out to see Flash’s name light up on the screen along with a text poking fun at Peter for the interaction in the gym. Ned’s speech tapered off and Peter looked up; there was a question on his friend’s face. Peter looked back down as another text from Flash came in.
“Dude,” Ned said. Peter looked up once more. Ned asked in a hush, “Are you… talking to someone?”
Peter laughed, louder than he meant to. “I mean, yeah, I got a couple texts.”
MJ put her book down and folded her arms over it, turning her gaze to Peter. She had one of her looks on her face, like there was a riddle to be solved and she already knew the answer. He pretended not to notice. Ned’s face morphed into incredulity as his brows un-furrowed, lifted; his mouth opened. He pointed at Peter and declared, “You are! You totally are!”
Peter laughed again, bouncing his knee and shaking his head slightly. This wasn’t the best time for his best friend to suddenly become perceptive. He was forced to acknowledge MJ’s scrutinizing stare when she said, “He’s deflecting.”
He shook his head again, rolling his eyes as he turned to look around the cafeteria. He happened to make eye contact with someone across the room. Of course, the someone was Flash, who also appeared to be shrugging off his friends’ conversation. Peter reddened and jolted to face Ned across from him.
“Stop pointing at me,” he muttered to Ned. Looking between his friends, he huffed and said, “I don’t know what you guys are talking about. Really. It’s just some texts.” After a pause, he tacked on, “You guys aren’t my only friends.”
“No offense, Peter, but we kind of are,” Ned said. He lifted his shoulders in an apologetic shrug. At least he’d finally put his accusing finger down.
“And I know you don’t smile at your phone like that for your aunt May, or anyone in decathlon,” MJ added, a twinkle in her eye and a complacent smile on her face, her nose scrunching up. She wasn’t mean, but she did enjoy messing with him.
Peter groaned. “I’m not doing anything at my phone. I probably just thought of something funny.” Another buzz from his phone. His friends’ eyes flicked to the source of the noise and then to Peter’s face. He’d left his phone face up on the table and couldn’t stop his own eyes from glancing at the screen.
Flash Thompson 11:57 AM
looks awkward over there
Peter could feel the smile pulling on his mouth; he bit his bottom lip to stop it. He ducked his head. The butterflies were dancing around inside him. Being friendly with Flash again had been really nice, if overwhelming. He was thinking about the fact that Flash must have been watching him from across the room and experienced twin urges to hide his head in his hands (Oh my god, Parker, is this really what you’re like with a— cute friend?) and to look over at Flash again. Ned and MJ were decidedly silent, and when, after a moment, Peter looked up at them, he found them both staring at him. Ned was actually shocked. MJ’s expression was more difficult to parse; she usually wore a poker face, but she also appeared somewhat disbelieving. Clearly, she hadn’t solved Peter’s riddle like she thought she had. He felt a spark of irritation light up in him.
“Guys, even if I was talking to someone, is that really so surprising?” he asked, shoulders pulling up to his ears.
“Dude, no, that’s not it,” Ned hurried to answer. “It’s just— we had no idea this was happening until, like, a week ago. Your phone’s always blowing up now, out of nowhere.”
Peter was still thinking up a response to Ned when Flash approached their table. Peter’s spider-sense had felt him coming, but it was unexpected nonetheless. He noticed Ned tense — even MJ sat up straighter, both anticipating the jab that Flash always aimed at one of them (usually at Peter, though they were familiar with sending a retort back at Flash on his behalf). He quirked his head up to Flash, who jerked his own chin up in a cocky imitation of a greeting.
“Hey, Parker,” Flash said. “We’re still getting together after school, right?”
“Hey, Flash. Yeah, I got permission for us to use the drama room until 4,” Peter replied with an awkward smile.
“Cool, see you later. Jones, Leeds,” he briefly acknowledged Peter’s friends before winking at Peter and walking away.
Peter took a deep breath as he looked at the ceiling. Did Flash really have to wink? Seriously?
“Peter,” Ned and MJ said at the same time.
MJ continued, “What was that.” A demand, not a question.
“I told you I had other friends,” Peter said, almost petulantly.
Ned and MJ, once again, said nothing for a moment, and Peter watched their silent conversation. Ned poked MJ, clearly deflecting to her. She stared back at him. Peter couldn’t tell what her impassive look meant, but Ned obviously could, because his shoulders drooped and he shifted to turn away from MJ and back toward Peter. Peter felt a pang of sadness; between Spider-Man and everything else (Flash), he hadn’t been able to spend as much time with Ned. Seeing how close Ned and MJ had gotten opened a tiny, wistful wound in his heart, but knowing his best friend was happy soothed the hurt. He also couldn’t find it in himself to regret the recent months and what had transpired during them.
He deflected their questions, posed mostly through Ned, for the rest of lunch. After all, nothing was going on between Peter and Flash, obviously. He’s Flash Thompson (as his friends so helpfully repeated, with dubious emphasis). Nothing was going on.
***
At the end of the school day, Peter headed to the drama room. For once, he arrived before Flash. Upon Flash’s arrival, they began to practice their scene with little preamble. Their teacher clarified in an email that they were expected not to read from their book, and Peter kept forgetting what he was supposed to say. Flash seemed as though he had the entire book memorized, but he was uncharacteristically patient when Peter messed up again and again.
They didn’t have much to catch up on, because Flash had taken to peppering Peter with updates of his day via text. Even so, when they took a break from practicing, they talked. Without bringing up Spider-Man, Flash mentioned that he found and returned a woman’s lost cat.
Peter smiled. “Yeah, I actually saw your tweet.” Before he could say anything else, he heard an intake of breath from Flash, and thought, Oh, shit.
“You saw my Twitter?” Flash’s face blanched and his comfortable demeanor melted into a wary grimace.
Thinking fast, Peter nodded. “Well, I have your number in my phone, and social media is weird and invasive, so it showed me your account when we started texting. I guess your phone number is connected to it. The cat thing is really nice, though!” he said, hoping to dissipate the awkward mood.
“Thanks,” Flash said, and then conceded, “That makes sense. I didn’t know you were on Twitter. I, uh…” he trailed off.
Peter remembered the tweets, the ones where Flash didn’t call him out by name but where there was no question to either of them who the tweets were about. “That nerd at Midtown seems like a real loser, right?” he joked.
Flash reddened. He mumbled what sounded like an apology, then pointed out they should get back to practicing. Peter felt shitty for bringing the mood down, but went along with Flash without protest. By the time they were done, Flash was back to his usual (as of late) upbeat self. Peter shrugged off another invitation to be walked home, so Flash left the room before Peter, walking backwards out the door and flashing him a peace sign and a blinding grin.
Once outside, Peter ducked into an alley and changed into his Spider-Man suit. Honestly, he’d have liked to spend more time with Flash (which was still weird to admit to himself), but he hadn’t gotten much time in the suit lately. He needed to work off the energy that was building up inside him, burrowing so deep he could feel it in his bones.
He stayed out later than usual, which meant he had to be extra careful not to make noise when he crawled through his window just after midnight. He was exhausted, having just spent eight hours as Spider-Man after seven hours in school, not including the time with Flash in between. The long day was exactly what he needed, though, and after taking his suit off, he fell into bed and straight to sleep, forgoing a necessary shower and ignoring the intermittent buzzing from his phone.
***
Peter awoke to the trill of his alarm. The buzzing in his mind had subsided and when he stretched, he felt in his muscles only soreness from use, instead of tension from being pent- and riled-up. He’d needed the night out and was grateful that his body rested efficiently. The calm lasted through his quick shower, his serene mood only fracturing when he checked his phone while pulling on a clean shirt.
Flash Thompson 12:14 AM
so
i checked
and i don’t have my phone number connected to my twitter
which means you were internet stalking me
care to explain, parker?