Us Against The World ｡ Peter Parker [2]

37 - Homecoming

There was no montage scene; no cheesy music that followed my journey into becoming a swan for homecoming. There was just me with a little more makeup on, my hair styled nicely and wearing a dress I had saved in my closet for a few months. Homecoming was just another night in reality; a night where my friends would band together and laugh at our teachers who played the overbearing chaperone and drank watery punch. It was a night that was supposed to be some rite of passage, a night full of magic and fun, but that was not the case for my homecoming.

"Tell me again why this Clay character couldn't stop by the house for some photos?" My mother was asking for the fourth time tonight. We were parked in the school carpark but she was fussing with my hair before letting me out of the car. "Some photos by the fireplace would have been very sweet."

I leaned away from her quick hands, tucking a stray curl behind my ear and watching her eyes bug out with my movement. "His name is Clayton, mum. And we agreed to meet here because we're only going as friends. He, I mean we, didn't feel the need to make it such a big deal." I could tell my darling mother wanted to ask why Peter Parker was not my date but she had reframed from voicing her feelings on that mishap. "It's just homecoming. We have school dances all the time, why make it such a big thing, you know?"

She let her hands flop against her thighs, resisting the urge to fix my hair. "Alright. Well, remember to have fun, or at least try to." Her attention was soaked up by the few students wandering by our car, giggles loud on the wind. I noticed her eyebrows knit together suddenly and my head was swinging around to find Clayton Cole leaning against a brick wall casually, a cigarette between his fingertips. "Please tell me that's not your date."

"Okay. He's not my date," I quickly kissed her cheek and was piling out of the car, my dress almost catching in the door before I swung it shut. "He's just a friend and he's completely harmless. His bad boy demeanour is literally a front. Bye, mum!" 

If looks could kill, Clayton Cole would be dead as I wandered over towards him, feeling my mother's gaze on my back. He offered a quick smirk in greeting, a cloud of smoke swirling around him. I cocked my eyebrow, "I thought you didn't smoke. That it was some stupid metaphor or something." Despite my better judgement, I couldn't help but admire the way his jawline looked while he blew out a cloud of smoke. 

Clayton dropped the cigarette to the pavement. "I just needed to take the edge off."

"The edge? Edge of what, Clayton?" I hissed towards him, my arms crossed over my chest. A few younger students dressed nicely wandered by us, one commenting loudly about no smoking on school grounds. 

He just returned a bored stare before tilting his head towards a car that was finally pulling out of the carpark. "Is that your mum?" he asked but didn't give me much of a choice in replying before giving her a grand wave. I could almost feel the lecture that would come when I arrived home tonight. My mother would tell me all the ways to avoid boys that bred nothing but trouble. "Come on, princess, let's do this."

A twinge of irritation flooded through my body, but I took his offered arm anyway. We wandered through the thinning crowd of excited students, everyone bubbly and overjoyed. Everyone but two gloomy teenagers that had agreed to go as friends. Once we handed over our tickets in silence, my eyes snagged the dried blood that cuffed Clayton's white sleeve. "What happened?" Clayton was snatching his arm away from me but I had been in a very similar situation once with a very different boy and I was not about to repeat that outcome. "You've got blood all over your sleeve. Tell me what's going on."

"It's nothing," Clayton assured me. "Just some bad luck with some Irish bastards." 

That was not a suitable response. "What does that even mean? Are you in some sort of trouble? Did somebody hurt you?"