𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, PETER PARKER ¹

xii.

I started going over to Peter's apartment on days where I felt I needed to let it all out and on days that I needed a distraction. I began to hate being home because of the constant reminder of Lucía. Sometimes I would show up without warning, or text him before. Overtime, I began to enjoy the company

It was hard for me to open up and be vulnerable at first, but after Peter confided in me about his uncle, I began to feel a little more comfortable in letting my guard down around him. Still, it was a rare occurrence for me to break down in front of him.

"Hey." He greeted me one day when I showed up at his door. I inhaled sharply before I told him what I came here for. If I didn't say it now, I'd change my mind about saying it at all.

"Screw pretending I'm fine." I stopped for a second to recompose myself. "I-I'm not okay."

Internally, I cringed at the way my voice broke. The raw vulnerability I was showing Peter made my skin crawl and I wanted to retract everything I just said. But when his eyes softened and his expression filled with worry, I pushed away those thoughts. He took me into his room and sat at his desk chair while I sat on his bed.

"I just really miss her, Peter." I looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. "And it's my fault that she's gone."

"Emmie.." His sorrowful eyes met mine. "Don't say that."

"No, you don't understand." I shook my head, my eyes deceiving me. "I could have saved her. I-I didn't have my sling ring." He didn't respond and let me explain.

"I hid it for months because I am done with magic. And if I wasn't so selfish I would have had it that night and I-" I choked out a sob, rubbing my forehead. "I could have made a forcefield. I saw it coming! I saw it in slow motion, but I couldn't.."

"I couldn't do anything about it." I take a deep breath, trying to calm down and manage my hand tremors.

"God, I can't live with myself!" I stood up and began pacing the room because my breathing wasn't helping. I ran my shaking hands through my hair, on the verge of pulling it out.

"Lucía is dead! My sister died because of me!" As I broke down in front of him, Peter got up and made his way towards me.

"It's not your fault, Emmie." He calmly stated, his brown eyes capturing mine. He grabbed my shaking hands, in a firm but comforting way. "I know whatever I say will not convince you otherwise. But,"

As I stared into his eyes, I found that it was easier to breathe now. Focusing on the comforting brown of his irises, my breathing, and his words, helped slow my racing mind.

"I'm so sorry. I honestly don't have the words. But I care about you and I'm hurting with you."

And that was enough to help me get by little by little. I didn't want advice or half-hearted condolences, and if I heard "she's in a better place now" one more time I would actually scream. Somehow, Peter knew what to say all the time and he even knew when not to say anything and to just listen.

I owe Peter the world, because if he wasn't here for me, then I don't think I'd get through this at all.

.•¤۞¤•.

EVENTUALLY I STARTED GETTING BACK INTO THE FLOW OF SCHOOL. But it was also my junior year of high school and school work began getting tougher and tougher, not to mention the dreaded SAT's in the spring.

One Thursday night I was up pretty late trying to study for a history test that I put off until the night before. No matter how hard I drilled the material into my head with the help of quizlet, I wasn't seeming to grasp the concepts. I began to give up and started spending more time scrolling through social media than spending time studying.