Air I Breathe

Chapter 15

Wed, Jan 8

"Why are you avoiding me?" Ned asks Peter at lunch on Wednesday between bites of macaroni and cheese. They'd stood beside each other on the lunch line, are sitting across from each other, and yet, they haven't spoken at all in the ten minutes they've been together.

"I'm not avoiding you," Peter states as he picks at his food. He's done with his antibiotics, but his stomach is still off from the steroids. He reminds himself to stop at the nurse when he's done to do his treatment and take his midday pills, tries not to sigh because he knows Ned's in just as shitty a mood as he is based on the question he's just asked. "I'm sitting here, aren't I?" he adds, full-well knowing he's being ridiculous.

Ned puts his fork down. "Clearly, you are, so if I've done something, I'd like to know, because this is getting kind of weird. We're on day three of barely talking at all and I don't even understand why!"

"I'm just really tired, Ned. Like, exhausted on a level I didn't think was possible. I'm overwhelmed by coming back to school, and I have to get to the nurse in like," he pauses, checks his watch, "five minutes for meds and," he pauses again, sighing as he puts his fork down. "You probably wouldn't understand."

"Or maybe I would? If you'd actually open up and tell me literally anything?"

"Not the correct use of literally."

"Peter, you didn't even tell me you were okay until like, Christmas! I know MJ was worried about you, because she was texting me, but I was scared, too. I'm still kind of scared. You don't seem like yourself and you're super wheezy all the time, and I feel like there's stuff you're not telling me."

"There's not much to tell, Ned."

"We talk about everything, Peter. It's always been like that, but now, suddenly, it's not? What gives?!"

"I've been busy with Spiderman stuff." He shrugs, picks his fork back up but doesn't eat. His stomach grumbles.

"That's funny, because the news just had an entire segment on how Spiderman has been MIA since before Christmas, and as far as I know, you're the only Spiderman in our universe."

Peter doesn't answer.

"I get it, Peter. You'd rather spend your time with MJ. It's fine." He shrugs, goes back to his macaroni and cheese. "I just wish you'd tell me the truth instead of leaving me in the dark."

Peter looks up. "No, Ned, it's not like that."

"If I was hanging out with a girl like MJ, I'd probably be doing the same thing, but I'd tell you about it, you know? Maybe I'd even invite you over so we could all hang out sometimes."

"You wouldn't have wanted to hang out with me over break, Ned. I was...really sick." There. He's said it, admitted it out loud.

"We could have played video games or worked on my new Lego project-"

"I was too sick to do any of that, Ned. I couldn't even..." he trails and looks away, not wanting to add the word shower. He puts his fork down and takes a breath, feels like he owes Ned more of an explanation. "I spent, like, two weeks on oxygen, and I still have to wear it at night because it gets hard to breathe, and I'm doing, like, five treatments a day with two different meds, and then there's a bunch of inhalers and pills I have to take, all so that I can breathe, and I have to start these injections soon to keep the attacks from happening because my immune system is trying to kill me and I'm just...between school and keeping my lungs somewhat functionable, the word tired doesn't even describe it. It feels like the mitochondria in my cells are just not working and nothing that I do helps and May's telling me each day is a fresh start but I'm just trying to make up ground from the day before because I'm so tired and they're just stacking, one on top of another, and I've only been back at school for three days and I'm...I'm..." he pauses, puts his elbows on the table and covers his face with his hands to keep from crying. He definitely doesn't want to do that here, in the cafeteria, in front of everyone. In front of Flash, who usually sits a few tables away.