Spider-Man Imagines I

Definition of Perfection (Part One) | Peter Parker [TH]

You groaned the moment you stepped inside of the school. The entire hallway was covered in stupid red and pink paper-heart cutouts. They were taped all around the grey walls and the fronts of lockers. It was only February twelfth, but Valentine's Day was apparently coming a few days early.

Girls were getting bouquets of classic red roses, giant boxes of fancy chocolate, Hallmark cards, and fluffy teddy bears. And you - you strode in alone, arms at your sides, music playing loud in your ears, trying to get around the couples scattered around, kissing and hugging and just being happy.

It wasn't that you needed a boyfriend, because you didn't. You knew it was fine that you had never had one. A lot of girls didn't have boyfriends. A lot of girls didn't date more than one person - and that was fine. More than fine, even. You didn't want to get your heartbroken, so you weren't very eager to say yes to any boys that would ask.

Well, if boys did ask you, anyway.

They didn't.

So you didn't get asked and you didn't date anyone and you just lived life the way it was. You were alone and that was fine. End of story.

You had two great friends named Peter and Ned. Sometimes Michelle could be considered a friend - but she often flipped you off in the middle of the hallway and that made you wonder if she liked you or not.

Meeting up with your two friends by the vending machine, you sighed out a, "Hi," to Ned and Peter. Peter bent down to snag the bottle of soda that had toppled down from the bottom of the machine. When he stood back up, he smiled, and a tuft of brown hair hung in his eyes.

Ugh. Your heart panged. Sometimes, Peter looked seriously cute.

You wrapped your earbuds up neatly and stuffed them in your pocket, trying to tell yourself to stop gawking at your awkward (but so cute) friend.

"Hey," Ned said, gripping the straps of his backpack. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you for a minute. "Is something wrong?"

"No," you answered, but you said it too fast and your friends knew you too well. "Well. It's just... everyone is being all gross today."

"Oh, yeah," Ned said. He nodded. "Well, it is Valentine's Day week."

"Sadly," you said.

He smiled then. "What you're seeing is nothing. Tell ___ what we saw this morning, Pete."

Peter laughed, tipping his head back slightly, and scowled. "No way."

"What was it?" you asked. No one answered. "Ugh, guys!" You smiled and gently nudged Peter's foot with yours. "C'mon, you gotta tell me now!"

He opened his mouth, groaned, and shook his head. "I... can't say it. I can't. It was so gross. Dude," he said, looking at Ned.

Ned rolled his eyes. "We saw Liz full on making out with Harry Osborn. Like, it was bad."

"Oh," you said, sneering your nose. "Sorry, Pete."

"I've been over her for a long time, so it wasn't that," he said. "It was seeing Harry and his ton-"

"No!" You half screamed, clamping your hands down on your ears. "No, no, no, no! I don't like that stuff."

The boys laughed and Ned swung his arm over your shoulders. "C'mon, we gotta get to class before we all get detention for being late again."

You walked in the middle of the two, going deeper and deeper into the hallway, and therefore the decorations, too.

"All of this red and pink makes me sick," you said, fake gagging.

Ned laughed. "It'll be down by the end of the week."

"Yeah," you said.

Peter snorted. "You know, it wouldn't be that bad if we actually had dates." He frowned, and you did, too.

"Yeah. Must be nice to have somebody." You stared longingly at a couple that was walking hand in hand down the hall.

You didn't even realize you had stopped moving. Ned smacked your arm.

"Hey, dude... I thought not having a boyfriend didn't bother you," he said.

You sighed. "It shouldn't," you mumbled, "but it does sometimes."

"Why?" he asked. Peter was quiet, staring at you.

"Is there something wrong with me?" you asked, shaking your head. "I mean, you two have had girlfriends, but I have had zero boyfriends. No one has ever had a crush on me before. I don't know, it's just..." There were tears in your eyes as you focused on staring at the couple holding hands. They were the definition of everyone's perfect; the sort of perfect people couldn't let go. "Sometimes I think that I am too much or that I have too much. Am I too ugly? Annoying? Fat-"

"What?" both boys exclaimed, "___, shut up! You're not any of those things-"

You sighed and crossed your arms. Huffing to yourself, you burned red and stared at the dirty floor. "I know. I know. It's just... sometimes I can't help but think those things, you know?"

Ned nodded. "I know." He stepped close to you and rubbed your arm, leaning in to give you an awkward hug. "Hey, you're cool. Really."

"Thanks," you said, and you smiled at him. "That makes me feel better, actually. I didn't mean to start going on an emotional rant..."

Ned laughed. "Hey, it happens a lot. It's cool. Pete and I know you well enough to be prepared."

You laughed, too, but you didn't really feel better. You still had all of these insecurities that had surfaced. It was painful, thinking those things, especially when you knew they were lies.

There was no specific definition of beautiful. There was no specific height, weight, hair color, skin color. There was no specific way you had to dress or do your makeup or anything. There was no number of boyfriends you had to have in high school.

Everyone was beautiful just the way they were, no matter who they've been with or haven't been with.

And yet-

Even as you thought those things-

Even as you encouraged yourself-

You didn't believe them.

Ned hugged you again quickly. You gave him a half smile, pulled away, and started to walk to class. Peter trailed a little behind.

He was still staring at you.