NOT ANOTHER TEEN MOVIE ∙ Peter Parker

✸ Chapter Thirty: DJ FLASH

"Yeah," she said, wincing when her voice croaked. "I'm coming. Just fixing my hair."

Fixing her hair consisted of brushing it and allowing it to naturally straighten as it dried. She stepped out of the bathroom to find C.T. gone, so she returned back to her bedroom. The formerly-blue walls had been painted gray, thanks to her parents and her spending an entire night rearranging and repainting. Although they didn't get much sleep, Lizzie laughed the whole night with her parents. She pushed down those thoughts as well, eyes meeting with C.T. near her bed, who was staring down at two different tops with pursed lips.

"I like the green one," Lizzie suggested, giving her a smile as she walked over to her desk to check her cell phone.

Then she froze. Every time she thought things could never get worse, somehow another problem happened. That Friday afternoon, she thought her biggest problem was Peter Parker inviting Spider-Man to the party (which was still very much a problem for her) and that he had told his best friend about her (which she was trying to remain calm about). Turns out, it was her past coming back to bite her in the ass. Shocker! Lizzie stared down at her phone with a direct message from Instagram. Specifically from a username that she hadn't heard from in a while, and she read over the message quickly.

Then, she looked over her shoulder at C.T. with a question forming. "Hey, do you—oh."

C.T. had chosen that moment to change from her Nike sports bra to a black bralette, her toned back fully exposed with her hair pulled into a messy bun. God, she was so lucky. Lizzie's hands faltered on her phone as a flush appeared on her cheeks, the DM forgotten for a moment, and stared at her girlfriend unabashed. C.T. felt the heat on her back and turned, raising her eyebrows at Lizzie with a smirk.

"Enjoying the show?"

"Very much so," she confirmed quickly, nodding a few times as she put her phone down behind her without looking.

C.T. grinned and walked over to her, hands reaching out to wrap around Lizzie's abdomen. Only in a sports bra as well, which seemed considerably less-attractive to Lizzie (on herself, at least), she didn't feel nearly as exposed. One thing about their relationship was that they had been comfortable from softball, and so the little things that Lizzie hated about herself were already seen by C.T. and loved all the same. Still, something pulled the older girl's eyes to the long scar along Lizzie's right arm. It stood out more now in the summer, a shade lighter than her current tan.

"Does it ever hurt?" C.T. asked quietly, her lips pulling down the longer she inspected it.

There was a crease appearing between her brows, contempt over everything that happened surrounding her shoulder injury and their break-up. A painted green finger traced the lines where they'd cut her open. Scars collected on her from that day, head to toe, and while she tried her hardest not to be ashamed of them, they were still there. Forever a reminder. Lizzie considered lying and maintaining that she was fine, but too much was already hidden from C.T. and the longer things rumbled in her chest, the harder it was becoming to stay quiet.

"Sometimes," she muttered, frowning as she glanced over at her shoulder as well. "Sometimes it's because I did something stupid. Pushed myself too hard...but other times, it's just the mental. You know? Like a phantom pain. It's not constant and aching, but it's like a shock of electricity down my right arm. It happens enough to remind me of that day."