Peter had just slipped inside of his first period class when he already heard Flash's loud, booming laugh practically shake the walls. He groaned, feeling particularly annoyed at the boy. He hadn't even done anything yet. Yet.
Admittedly, most of his annoyance stemmed from the fact that Flash's sister was the girl Peter was head over heels in love with. Like, so in love that one smile from her sent his heart into a frenzy and melted his eyes like snow in the sun. So obsessed with her that the sound of her laugh alone was his favorite song.
Peter would take a thousand beatings to keep her safe. He would fight endlessly to make her smile. He would do anything in his power to keep her happy and content.
But none of that would matter to Flash, who was more protective over his little sister than anything.
Peter plopped down in his seat and slammed his books down. He grumbled an apology to all of the half asleep kids he'd startled awake and blew heavily.
He had been hanging out with you more often, which he was realizing was more dangerous. Last night, during a particularly brutal game of Phase 10 between you, him, and Aunt May, he'd nearly kissed you. You had just skipped him for the fourth time in a row and the giggle that burst out of your lips made his entire body freeze - but warm up at the same time. If May hadn't cackled and then groaned when she didn't get the card she'd needed, he would have done it.
If he wanted to kiss you, he'd have to deal with Flash being more of a pain than usual. He would probably get smacked around. Even if you didn't feel the same way, he'd get beat up. Plus he'd lose you as a friend and would be miserable.
So he wouldn't attempt to kiss you and he would keep a bit of distance between you and him. It was for the best.
But that believe left him as soon as he saw you walk into the class. You seemed to walk in slow motion like one of those cheesy I-just-saw-the-girl-of-my-dreams moments in a romantic comedy.
You looked radiant, with your hair curled and bouncing on your shoulders and your lips a rich shade of maroon. You wore a casual black dress that went down to your knees and had half sleeves.
You waved to your brother's friends and made your way to the seat next to Peter. He tried to compose himself quickly.
"Hey, Peter," you said, voice as light and cheerful as ever.
"Hi," he replied.
"Glad to see you're not still pouty about me kicking your butt last night," you laughed.
He grinned. "Yeah... you're pretty good at that game. Even better than Aunt May - but I think she likes that." He gestured to your outfit. "Why are you all dressed up?"
"Oh. Because of the band concert tonight," you said. You subconsciously touched a lock of hair that draped down the length of your arm. "Why? Does it look bad? Is it the lipstick? Flash and Liz both said it was pretty but my mom told me it might be too purple-"
"N-No, it's great!" he rushed. "It's not too purple at all. Your mom is crazy." You smiled at that. He nodded. "You look really pretty today, ___."
You raised your eyebrows. "Thank you, Peter," you breathed.
He swallowed. Just. Kiss. Her.
"You're still coming to the concert though, right? Even though you forgot?"
No. Distance yourself.
He nodded. "Oh yeah, totally. Wouldn't miss it for the world."
You grinned. "Oh good! I was so worried you wouldn't want to come. The music we're playing this semester is so. Lame. And I know that everyone is always pressuring you to join band again or whatever..." You waved your hand and rolled your eyes.
Band was one of the extra curricular activities that Peter had to drop in order to be Spider-Man. Despite loving you so much, he did not dare tell you his secret. It was dangerous, obviously, and he'd kept it for far too long now.
"Nah, I'll definitely be there," he assured you, tapping the end of his pencil against the desk.
You smiled impossibly wider. "Thanks, Peter," you almost squealed, reaching over and placing a hand on top of his.
His cheeks went red as your painted nails poked into his knuckles and your grip tightened for the briefest moment. Wow, did he want to grab your hand and hold it.
Class started. While the teacher took attendance, you stole Peter's notebook and wrote on a fresh sheet:
Down for a study session in the library today?
He took it and smiled. Just before he could write an eager YES! a wad of paper bounced off of his head. He glanced up to see Flash mouthing at him.
"Parker, get my sister!"
He glanced at you and tapped your shoulder, bringing you out of focusing on fixing up your lipstick. He pointed to Flash and you started mouthing to him.
Peter frowned. He couldn't hang out with you everyday. Flash might start to realize how much he really liked his sister.
He passed the notebook back. No, not today. Sorry.
You frowned. Even worse than the straight up no, he didn't even give an excuse. He just didn't want to hang out.
That's okay. I'll just see you at the concert.
He read the more and nodded, a squinty eyed smile bringing out a gorgeous smile out of you.
...
That night, you held your instrument case in your lap. Flash was driving you to the concert a little early so you could practice. You drummed your fingers nervously against the top of the case.
Flash raised his eyebrows as you as he let go of his seatbelt. "Nervous there, kiddo?"
"Stop calling me kiddo like I'm not just eighteen months younger than you," you grumbled.
He chuckled. "Nervous and snappy. Yikes." When you shot him a tired look, he grew sympathetic. "Seriously, tell me what's got you all worked up. You always love concerts. You're great at playing and you're confident in stage. What's wrong now?"
You bit your lip. "I don't know... I guess I just want to impress the right people," you said, blushing. You meant Peter. You always meant Peter. "I'm just feeling a little insecure about myself is all."
Flash shook his head. "There is literally no reason my genius of a sister should feel nervous. You've got this, kiddo."
You smiled. "Thanks," you said.
"Hang on, I'll get your door for you," he said, opening his door. He ran around the car and pulled on yours, opening it and helping you out, mindful of the heels that left you less mobile than usual.
You took in a deep breath, feeling more than confident now.
...
On stage, sitting in your chair amongst the others that played your instrument, you sat straight and proud, eyes twinkling in the spotlight. Music trailed out of your instrument, filling the room with rich sounds of the oldest classics.
You were unaware of the fact in the center of the auditorium was an empty seat that belonged to Peter Parker, who hadn't bothered to show up.
Flash noticed. After the show, he ran to find you as you walked off backstage. In his hands was a giant bouquet of assorted flowers. He found you, embraced you, and handed them to you.
"H-How did you get these? I rode here with you," you laughed, cheeks pink with the excitement of performing.
"I had them in the back behind your seat," he said. He grinned. "You were fantastic! What did I tell you?"
You smiled. "Thanks, Flash," you said.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
You shook your head. "I want to find Peter and see how he enjoyed it. And then I want pictures. I didn't put on expensive lipstick to waste a perfect photo opportunity." You grabbed Flash's hand and moved him through the crowd. "Have you seen Peter?"
"Uh... Parker..." he paused, gulping down the dread. "Parker didn't make it to the show."
The look of happiness on your face vanished in an instant. You mouthed an oh and glanced away, hands lowering the flowers from your chest.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," you lied. "It's just that... he promised. He said he wouldn't miss it for the world." There were tears in your eyes.
Flash winced. "Look, Parker is a jerk. That loser always flakes on everybody."
That certainly didn't make you feel any better. You wanted so badly for Flash to like the boy you had fallen in love with, but they never got along. And they never would - not after tonight.
"Hey, I'll take you anywhere for dinner. Or dessert! Anywhere, my treat," he said.
"I'd rather go home," you whispered. You just wanted time to grieve and work yourself up to forgive Peter in the morning.
...
Peter crawled in through his bedroom window and plopped down silently on the carpet. He stripped down to his boxers, hung the suit up in his closet, and grabbed new clothes to wear after his shower. On his way down the hall, he checked his phone to find a single text from Flash.
Consider yourself dead, Parker. Don't promise my sister things you don't intend to keep.
Peter's stomach dropped. "Oh no," he whispered, the blood draining from his face. "Oh no, no, no, no..." He looked at the time and saw that the concert had been over for fifteen minutes.
Aunt May poked her head out of her room. "Hey, sweetie - I thought you were already asleep. What's wrong?"
"Oh, the concert! Oh my gosh, ___ is gonna kill me!"