NOT ANOTHER TEEN MOVIE ∙ Peter Parker

✸ Chapter Twenty-Nine: Captain America

"Hey, we'll figure it out," C.T. interrupted the sudden burst of anxiety from Lizzie, tugging her hand so that she could nod at her girlfriend. "It'll be fine. I can wait around until you're done with the Decathlon practice today, and we can get ready at your place tomorrow if you want."

The idea eased her nerves, knowing that she would have C.T. there to keep her from having an absolute breakdown. Before she agreed, Lizzie darted her eyes over to her best friend. Taylor already knew what was going to be asked, and a short nod confirmed that she was fine with Lizzie spending the time getting ready with C.T. instead. Likely, Taylor would be going with Eli, but Lizzie wanted to make sure before she did anything.

"So, what's the red mean?" C.T. asked, deciding to jump into a conversation and distract Lizzie.

Apparently, she'd asked the wrong question because Lizzie glowered more. "Conflicts between the two."

Taylor and Eli shared a glance with one another, deciding that neither of them were brave enough to acknowledge that a good portion of the next month was in red. C.T.'s mouth formed a mirrored frown to Lizzie's, gently taking a hold of the planner in exchange for an apple she'd grabbed. Lizzie softened at the gesture, meeting eyes with C.T. momentarily to show her appreciation. Putting the apple in her left hand, she freed her right to place on C.T.'s knee, pulling her body closer in her direction.

"D.C. will be fun," C.T. said, once again falling off the mark in a conversation topic. The apple in Lizzie's mouth tasted stale suddenly, and it fell from her lips as she adjusted to the trigger that was their nation's Capital.

"I wish we were going the same week," Eli sighed. "I think we travel down there the first week of October."

"That's weird. Usually they're pretty similar."

Eli nodded in agreement, taking his phone out and furrowing his eyebrows. "It is. Hey, did you see the texts from Art last night?"

"No, I have that chat on DND," Taylor said honestly, pausing for a moment to wince when she realized that she could have been much nicer. "Sorry. It's just difficult to keep up with it whenever you text during practice."

"What'd he say?" Lizzie asked, dropping the forgotten apple onto the corner C.T.'s tray. With the wandering concerns from the rest of the table, she ignored the itch to grab the planner again and planted her feet in the conversation to distract herself. "I still can't believe he switched his lunch to be teacher's aide. Who switches first lunch for second lunch?"

Eli's brows were expressive as he read through the few text chains. "So, it's a lot. The iPhone Seven is coming out, and he's wondering if they listened his advice in the email he sent last month...my answer is no. He said Spider-Man helped stop a car crash this morning..."

Lizzie's jaw cocked instantly at the name. Like a magnetic pull, her brown eyes searched Midtown's large cafeteria room until she found her target. Peter Parker sat at a table with Ned next to him, Michelle only a few seats down—far enough that she didn't immediately seem associated with them. Her tongue found the roof of her mouth to contain her reaction when Parker looked up, sensing her staring. She let their eyes connect for a moment before she returned to Eli's face. Peter's nostrils flared briefly at the exchange, his teeth clenching to hold his tongue, a distant comparison to the microexpressions Lizzie Carter was capable of perfecting.

Ned's eyes darted back and forth between his best friend and Lizzie, brows furrowed in confusion. "What's up with that?"

"What?" Peter asked, finally pulling his eyes off Lizzie to look at Ned. "What's up with what?"

"You and Lizzie."

"Nothing's up with me and Lizzie."

Peter scoffed at the question, rolling his eyes because there was nothing up with them. The most that he had gotten out of her in the last two months just happened, and quite frankly, he was losing his patience. Aunt May had woken him up that morning telling him he was sleep-ranting, and the mentioning of Petunia (who sat on his windowsill, unaware of her divorced parents). He'd lost any relief in sending text messages for the time being after Not Delivered glared at him for four hours. So, now, Peter was dreaming about yelling at her, and that just made him even more frustrated.