Senioritis 3

Made Up Of Drugs

"What's the first step in constructing a time-temperature-transformation diagram?" Li Mei said, pushing her circular glasses up her nose and staring down at the flashcard in front of her.

"Um..." Peter muttered, tapping the fingers of his left hand against the desk. "Austenitizing?"

"Correct." Li Mei smiled, placing the card behind all the other ones.

Peter's right hand was pretty fucked up. Gwen had taken him to get an X-ray that night. Peter had been sitting in that storage room having a nervous breakdown for about forty-five minutes until she'd discovered him in there.

He'd broken two of his knuckles, and had to have a couple of his fingers taped together in a cast. And there were cuts and bruising all over his hand. A pretty dumb thing to do, Peter thought, the week before he had three midterms. He'd been taking codeine for the pain and it would give him awful migraines when he woke up most mornings.

Gwen had asked him what happened and Peter had told her Miles had made him mad and that he'd punched the door. She'd told him what he did was pretty stupid, but she was there practically every evening since Fall Break in his dorm room, helping him change his bandages and making sure he took all his other antibiotics.

Miles didn't talk to Peter, and Peter didn't talk to Miles. Li Mei had explained the situation vaguely to Michael, their boss, and he had swapped a couple shifts around to make sure they never really crossed paths.

When they did have shifts together, Miles would straight up ignore Peter. They'd help people out separately and Li Mei would serve as the link between them, telling Peter anything important work-wise that Miles had said.

Peter hadn't spoken to MJ in person since he told her he loved her, and he still really couldn't get over the fact that she hadn't said it back. The whole thing confused him because Gwen was perfect. She literally didn't have a flaw; George and Helen loved him and everything was going great.

So why was there a tiny part of him that wasn't...happy?

The anger he felt that day still lingered a bit inside him. It felt like MJ only wanted him to be there for her when she needed something, and it was a pretty shitty feeling.

I don't know what's wrong with me, MJ. I guess it's not your fault. How can you love me...when I'm supposed to be loving her?

I just want him to treat you right. I just want him not to fuck everything up like I did.

Maybe he's not a bad person.

But I just want him to make you popcorn and watch new episodes of Keeping Up with you on Sundays. I just want him to learn the lyrics to all those other Drake songs and sing them with you.

I just want him to not take offence when you make fun of him. Listen to you when you start talking for thirty minutes about some documentary you watched. Buy you Swedish Fish and Nerds when you're on your period, and just lie on your bed next to you while you eat them.

Ask you if you're okay like fifty times a day even though you're okay. Hold you and distract you when you have those panic attacks.

Li Mei had convinced Peter and Ned to try out for the undergraduate decathlon team, and they'd both made it. He'd heard MJ had made the team too - what could he say, Midtown High kids were groomed and ready for these things.