Marvel Imagines

9. Next Year... (Peter Parker)

   Peter Parker had been my crush since we both started high school together, and we had slowly become best friends during freshman year. Sophomore year, we scheduled every class we possibly could together, and did all the projects required for those classes together. Junior year, we hung out outside of school a bit and I think he really started liking me. Senior year, he asked me out on an official date, and we went to prom together.
   Once we got out of school, though, things just got to complicated. He was off being Spiderman all the time, and I had a full-time job, so we rarely saw each other. I worried about him, he didn't have time to talk to me, work took up too much of our time, and we eventually broke up. There was one thing I couldn't help but remember every single day, continuously: "Maybe next year." Those were the words I had uttered when Peter had asked if we could be friends after our breakup. But I was hurt that he didn't even want to try to work things out, so I simply stated those three words.
   Now, I wondered if he remembered. I wondered if he'd try to contact me. I doubted he would, but part of my heart hoped he might at least try. I still had feelings for him, even though I knew being Spiderman was the most important thing in his life.
   So, five minutes to midnight on December 31st, I sat on my bed with the TV blaring as New York prepared to drop the ball, and my phone on the blankets right in front of me. I chewed on my thumb nail, eyes flicking from the TV to the black device before me. Trying to convince myself he wouldn't text. And failing miserably.
   Three minutes. I turned off the light beside my bed and let my Lava Lamp and the TV light the room.
   Two minutes. Sipping my Cherry Coke, my eyes continued moving from one device to the other slowly.
   One minute. The people on the TV started freaking out, and before I knew it, started counting.
   Five.
   Four.
   Three.
   Two.
   One.
   "Happy new year." I murmured to myself, staring at the phone for a minute. When nothing happened, I got up from the bed and shut the TV off.
   Then, returning to my bed, I clambered under the covers and tucked myself in, sighing slightly. I jumped slightly in surprise when my phone lit up the now rather dark room, but I simply told myself it was my mom texting me 'happy new year'. Picking it up, I quickly typed in the password and pulled up my text messages.
   Peter: Happy New Year! You're the best friend and the nicest girl I've ever met. I miss you. Can we be friends?
   Me: Happy new year. Missed you, too! Lunch tomorrow?
   Peter: Sounds perfect. See you then!
   Me: See you then. :)

(Published August 28, 2021)