LIAR, LIAR. Peter Parker

sixteen. jealousy, jealousy

"Mommy?" The girl gulps, chest hammering too much that she doesn't even try to chastise herself for how pathetic she probably sounded at the moment. Besides, Andrew was in the car and no one was around to hear her but herself. It was a secluded area and she chose it for a reason. "Please call me back. Please. I love you. Call me back, please."

She shoves the phone back into her pocket, letting out an expatriated sigh as she blinked rapidly, rubbing her eyes to keep them open. Nina jumps inside of the car with a slam to the door, growing increasingly nervous and frustrated by the minute.

Despite this, she couldn't help but notice that their driver was staring at her with an amused look on his face - Andrew was young, way too young for a driver, and was probably only seventeen or eighteen. He had an unreadable expression on his face directed only at her, which only fueled her nerves even more.

"What?" Nina snaps, narrowing her eyes at the boy.

Andrew lets out a forced chuckle, shaking his head softly as he grips the steering wheel. "Nothing, miss."

The girl rolls her eyes at him - she's dealing with too much shit and the anxiety was practically eating her alive. Andrew and his weird habits should be the least of her thoughts right now. "Okay, weirdo."

Slamming her door as she made her way inside the campus, Nina decides on one thing: fake it till you make it. She wasn't going to let that ominous message ruin her day.

Nina needed to dress the part, talk the part, and most importantly think the part like she always did - and miraculously, somehow, every time, she always became the part.

Three minutes ago, she was Nina Viotto, the nervous wreck.

As she smiled at Betty and Liz, intertwining her arms with her two friends, she was Nina Viotto - the golden girl of Midtown.

...

"Peter asked me out to homecoming." Liz announces, "and I said yes."

The two girls, who both had been giggling over a cute picture of a cat Betty had taken on her way to school stop mid heave, looked up at the much taller Liz as she sat down right next to her two friends, lunch tray in hand.

"Peter?" Betty squeaks out, "Which Peter? I know tons of Peters. You have to be specific, Liz."

"Parker."

"Parker?" Nina repeats, something inside her chest stiffens up; it is tense, alert. It scrapes one finger along the bottom of her chest, green-eyed and hungry.

Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you? Nina says to it, to that disgusting feeling brewing up in her chest.

"A sophomore? Scrawny kid? Decathlon team? Him?" The girl laughs as if she's making fun of Liz, as mocking as she could muster. No, I am making fun of Liz. I don't care. It doesn't matter. It's funny. Liz is way too good for him. That's why you're a bit worked up - you're protective of Liz. That's it.

"You and Betty are Sophomores too, Nina."

"Yeah, but we're way cooler than him, so..."

"And FYI, he's not scrawny. Have you seen him in Gym Class?" Liz points out, a smile dancing on her lips. Betty looked like she was stopping herself from bursting out into a fit of giggles, Nina is biting on her sandwich so it could swallow that bitter feeling in her stomach.

"You like him?" Betty teases, the two of them jumping into a conversation about Peter. Nina would normally care to listen, but her carton of milk had suddenly seemed to look very interesting.