darling [peter parker]

pep rally!

She really didn't think this through.

Well, she did, but not with a rational mind. She was angry and hurt. She'd needed an outlet and she made a rash decision. This was going to be a disaster. She could already hear her peers laughing. She was so in her own head she almost (almost) messed up their first routine. She even almost forgot to zip up her jacket and put on her pants during their costume change - a first for them. This was all a first for them and it was all Wendy's fault if it went sour.

Which, of course, it would, because when was the last time something worked out in her favor?

They filed out of the locker rooms, clad in white tracksuits. No one paid too much attention to them, too busy watching a select few kids attempt to hit the principal with a creampie. Hardly anyone noticed Flash setting up his DJ station in the back. No one caught Mrs. Wayland passing Wendy a mic. No one could hear Wendy's heart beating erratically in her chest, pushing against her ribcage with a ferocity that left her whole body sore.

Cheer captain Lydia Brant stood at the front as the others took their positions on the mat. Everyone but Lydia faced the back wall while she beamed at their audience. Wendy stood in the center of the second row between Erin and Angie, who gave her twin comforting smiles. The air was thick and the crowd was quiet.

Lydia brought her pom-poms together, shook them wildly, then raised one arm into the air. "Give me an S!"

The rest of the cheer squad whipped around and formed an S with their arms. "S!"

"Give me a U!"

"U!"

At that moment, Wendy took back everything she'd ever said about her being smart. She was wrong. She was a giant idiot. No wonder Peter Parker always beat her.

"Give me an E!"

"E!"

She thought she might faint. They were running out of letters and fast.

"Give me an M!"

"M!"

She was about to embarrass herself in front of the entire school. She vaguely registered the familiar tune seeping from Flash's speakers and flooding the gymnasium. Holy shit, she'd turned her life into High School Musical. Or worse, Glee. Or even worse, Riverdale.

"Give me an E!"

"E!"

She took a deep breath. She had this. She was Wendy fucking Carter. They weren't going to laugh. They were going to cheer. Right?

"What does that spell?"

"Sue me!"

The entire cheer squad threw their pom poms to the side. The front row split in the middle and parted for Wendy to step through. The intro was ending. It was now or never. They unzipped their jackets to reveal bright red tops. The crowd was confused but loving it. Wolf whistles pierced the air as Wendy glanced at Mrs. Wayland, who granted her two thumbs-up and a mouthed 'You got this.'

The intro ended and Wendy raised the mic to her lips. "Remember when you said that there's no second chance? Well, I heard that you've been hoping you could change the past. You miss the longer nights, you miss the long goodbyes, you miss the longer nights." She fell into the choreography with ease. So many nights of practicing in her living room had served her well; the moves were burned into her muscles.

Wendy's eyes narrowed. "Well did you ever think that it was hard for me? Do I get off like nothing happened nonchalantly? I got you feeling right, I got you feeling like, I got you feeling right." She'd written this song when she was angry, but she wasn't angry anymore. She was tired. She was so goddamn tired of putting on a show all the time.

"That's my shape, I made the shadow!" she sang, slipping her jacket off in sync with her squad. "That's my name, don't wear it out though! Feeling myself can't be illegal, illegal." The jacket was tossed aside just like the pom poms. The crowd hollered. She wondered if her smile looked genuine.

Wendy fought a sigh. "So sue me! For looking so pretty tonight, wearing your favorite color under the lights, for moving on, doing everything right. So sue me!" Perfectly executed body roll. Her audience was losing their shit and she tried to feed off their energy, but she felt like all that was holding her together was old gum and fraying thread.

"For being good friends with your friends, for running into you the place that we met, for being something you can't forget," she crooned. "So sue me." She let her hair down and shook it out, much to the crowd's joy. This should've felt like magic or electricity. It should've felt fun. Instead, it was taxing. Wendy was exhausted from constantly acting like she was okay.

"I know it's hard to see me on when you've been off as hell, but I'm not gonna dull myself because you dull yourself." She was not okay. She was traumatized and heartbroken and so unbelievably confused about how she felt about Peter Parker. She'd tried to use Spi-Peter as a therapist but it was the equivalent of slapping a band-aid on a gaping wound. "I know it's hard to see what you don't want to see, I know it's hard to see. That's my shape, I made the shadow, that's my name, don't wear it out though. Feeling myself can't be illegal, illegal!"

And back into the chorus. They fell to the floor and effortlessly kicked off their pants, revealing the rest of the red bodysuit. The bodysuits had all been sewn by Lydia herself, who usually used her sewing skills to make the perfect clothes for every occasion. Flame-resistant and stain-resistant clothes for experimenting in the lab, breathable and comfortable athletic gear, to hot dresses that can be turned into a jumpsuit or romper or shorts and a top, because "Why buy one look when you can buy four at once?"

The kids of Midtown were truly the future.

These bodysuits were form-fitting, but school appropriate and looked nice on everyone. Wendy was sure Lydia made a living off of prom season considering everyone begged her to make their dresses. A Lydia Brant original meant more to her classmates than Louis Vuitton or Gucci. Just another reason the Brant sisters were Midtown royalty.

Wendy rose from the floor, surging forward to walk in front of the bleachers. "I guess I'm hard to ignore." She looked up and found Peter in the crowd. They locked gazes as she sang, "Pick up that jaw off the floor."

She thought looking Peter in the eyes and singing lyrics she'd written as a giant middle finger to him might give her some sense of triumph or empowerment, but any semblance of happiness drained from her body in that moment of looking into his eyes. Because he was sad. He was just as miserable as her. He wasn't an idiot. He knew how badly he fucked up. She didn't need to sing it out in front of the entire school. He knew and he was hurting just as much. They were both heartbroken.

She finished the song, unable to tear her eyes from him until Lydia pulled her into a warm hug and the thunderous applause finally wormed its way into her ears. Wendy felt rather ill. She passed the mic to Lydia with a shaky smile and excused herself to the locker room.

Once the door had shut behind her, she let the tears that had been building up in her eyes finally fall. She stumbled over to a bench and sat down with her head in her hands. A sob pushed past her lips, no longer content to be pushed down or stifled. The bottle she'd stuffed all her emotions into was cracking from the pressure.

She heard the door open and close.

"Wendy?" Angie's voice sounded. "Hey, you okay?"

"No," Wendy admitted, her shoulders sagging. She shook like a house frame in a tornado. "I'm not okay. It was bearable when I had him - he just understood. But now he's gone and I miss him and everything hurts all the time."

Erin kneeled down beside Wendy and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Was he a cure or a distraction?"

"I don't know," Wendy sobbed, "but he helped it not hurt but now it does nothing but hurt all the goddamn time. I'm hurting constantly and I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired."

Angie sighed. "Don't worry, baby girl. You got us. Maybe we can't help the way he did, but we're here for you and we will fight tooth and nail to make everything okay."

Wendy laughed. "What would I do without you guys?"

"Crash and burn," Erin chuckled. "Crash and burn."

*

this chapter is...not what i wanted it to be