Love Song | p. parker

2 | Maybe Just a Little Bit More

Things were, for once in your life, great. After you'd given Peter your number, the two of you had been talking every day. At school, through text, over a call, there was almost no separation.

You were almost worried his soulmate would start to hate you because of the amount of time you'd spent with him over the course of three weeks. Yeah, it'd been that long before something had come up to destroy your stroke of good luck.

You and Peter didn't have any classes together, but you did have the same lunch. It almost instantly became your favorite part of the day. Michele was always there, her hand holding Peter's or his arm draped around her, but the PDA wasn't what bugged you.

What did bug you, was them. Just, them. They didn't fit right. They were too similar. All same classes, same height, same eye color, same foot size (what now?), same GPA, grades, home life, almost the same personalities. It was crazy. And because of that, they did like all the same stuff, but they misunderstood each other too often. It's as if they thought they were either exactly the same, or complete opposites.

They just didn't fit well.

Peter confirmed your theory to you one day when Michele was home sick.

"She's uh, she's actually never said the Phrase."

You gaped. "What?"

"Yeah," Peter hefted his backpack higher up onto his shoulder as you stopped at a crosswalk.

"Then how do you know you're soulmates?"

He shrugged. "She swears I said hers one night at a party."

You eyed him. "Were you... y'know,"

Peter nodded. "I was wasted. Don't let May know," he laughed nervously.

"Well... if you're not happy with her then why do you stay?"

"What do you mean, not happy? She's great!" Peter became defensive.

"Hey, hey," you defended yourself. "Didn't mean anything by it, just I can't see you and her ever becoming, like, more than a high school flirtationship. That's all."

You inwardly cringed. Did you really just say that?

Peter stopped walking. "What?"

You wet your lips nervously. "What I mean is-"

"No I get it." Peter nodded with a frown. "You don't think we're a good fit." He balled his fists. "Well have you known her for two years like I have? How can you judge my decisions if you've never seen my side?"

You backed up. You didn't think Peter was the kind of guy to hurt anyone but you were apprehensive all the same. "I didn't-"

"Yeah okay." He cut you off. "You didn't mean it. Well you said it. Obviously you meant something by it. I'm not in love with you, I'm in love with her."

You were stunned. Yeah, you'd found that Peter had captured a few feelings from you but to your knowledge no one knew, and you were being pretty discrete. You could only look stunned. You squared your shoulders. "Well lucky for you, I'm not in love with you either. And I think I can walk myself home." You pushed past him and marched on, not looking back.

When you got home you angrily threw your bag onto the couch and sat on a kitchen stool. Tears threatened to spill from your cheeks. You had been good so far with crying, but now you were alone with only your feelings. You couldn't contain it.

You let it all out.

Even with only knowing him for almost a month, you'd fallen for Peter Parker.

After your eaten two candy bars and a bag of Popcorn, you went to your room. You didn't want to talk to your mom at all when she got home.

You could only think about Peter. How he'd been your only good friend and now he was almost certainly gone.

And yeah, you couldn't deny that you thought that you and Peter would be better than him and Michele. They didn't fit, and you knew it.

You wished you hadn't said anything. Now your chance was gone.

They probably were soulmates. Who were you to decide otherwise?

"I probably don't have one," you said to yourself, referring to a soulmate. "I'm hopeless.

You wished with all your heart it was Peter, but now that was impossible.

You remembered your journal and took it out from under your pillow. Everything was poured into the ink and paper of that book.

You labored for an hour on getting your feelings just right in the book. When you were done, you wiped your eyes and told yourself it was done. Your feelings were printed and didn't need to be relived anymore because they were written down.

That didn't stop you from feeling sad the next few days as you watched Peter and Michele eat without you at lunch.

However, as a few weeks of torture went by, you slowly began to see a change in the way Peter and Michele acted. One day it was holding hands instead of arms around each other. Then it was the lack of a kiss after lunch. Then they were sitting and not holding hands.

You hated yourself for feelings selfishly happy that they seemed to be drifting. Peter hadn't talked to you since your falling-out, but you had hope.

The title of your journal entry kept you going. It read: or Maybe just a Little bit More?

That's what you wanted. More than friends.

But you knew he would never.

He would never come back.

Unless you were soulmates.