If there was one thing that I loved about our apartment, it was the fact that we lived just below Mr. Wu, the middle-aged pianist who played live for the fancy restaurant down the street on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Every evening around seven o'clock, he would begin to practice his pieces for work. I could imagine him sitting there in a flawless tux and pristine black bow-tie, his skilled fingers flying across the keys of the white baby grand that took up most of his living room. When we'd first moved here, I enjoyed the music so much, that I began to bring him warm cookies to show my appreciation. He had come to look forward to our weekly visits, and I began to put in requests for songs on certain days.
Anytime I felt particularly down, I would send him a pleading text and request a piece. Most recently, he had re-written the track City of Stars from La La Land, and it had become my favourite. He told me that it had also become the most requested song at the restaurant.
My friendship with the neighbor upstairs had always simply been a luxury until one night when Peter was over. It wasn't anything special really, just him trying to ensure that I didn't fail Advanced Functions. He went over the numeric systems several times, until he was satisfied that I had a basic handle on the equations he had probably been able to solve since his days in diapers.
"See? You only made one mistake in that calculation! You'll be a whiz in no time."
"Peter," I glared at him over the rims of my glasses. "Don't be nice to me just because there are muffins in the oven."
"I'm not!" but his brown eyes darted distinctly over toward the kitchen.
"I'm bringing half of them up to Mr. Wu later, so you can't pig out." I chuckled at his crestfallen look and raised the textbook up to my nose to read the next equation. "Sorry for the false hope, Parker."
"Why does he get them and I don't?" He whined, shoving the book down and making me meet his eyes, which magically seemed to become those of the most adorable puppy in the world whenever he wanted something. "I'm the one who gave up my Friday night to teach you calculus and vectors!"
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"You'll get some too, weirdo." I laughed. "In fact, I wanted to send a few for Aunt May to thank her for the help with my Homecoming outfit."
At the mention of Homecoming, Peter quickly refocused on our homework. "You're going to the dance? Did someone ask you?"
My cheeks went slightly pink. "No...but that doesn't mean I can't go, right? I was going to go with you...unless you have a date?"
Peter fiddled with the cuffs of his sweater the way he always did when he was nervous. I watched his deft fingers trembling, and felt my heart catch in my throat. Deep down, I knew that I should be thrilled for him. Peter had been trying to claw his way out of his very thick social anxiety for the last year, and I knew what a huge crush he had on Liz Allen. I didn't blame him. As much as I wanted to hate her guts because she'd captured Peter's heart before me, she was such a wonderful person that it was nearly impossible to do so. I wondered briefly if perhaps Peter had ever visited Liz at her home to help her with Math.
