Being Peter Parker's girlfriend was difficult, because you basically had to share him with the entire city of Queens. They needed Spider-Man, and by some chance, you had started dating that superhero two years ago. And now it was normal - not hearing from him for a whole night, him skipping dates, him showing up in your room injured...
But with every passing day, he became more and more different. He was so serious about his job as the superhero. It consumed him, but he was happy, because he was finally popular.
People adored him. Adored him.
And he adored the attention they gave him.
Suddenly it was like your love for him wasn't enough. It was theirs that he was chasing. It hurt, but you kept it to yourself, not even telling Michelle or Ned or Gwen, because sometimes it hurt that bad - and you felt stupid. You were an idiot, right? Peter loved you. Always had.
But sometimes you weren't so sure.
"Hey, ___," Ned said, and you turned your head to see him bouncing down the hall towards you, textbooks tucked under his arm. You smiled. "How are you?"
"I'm good," you said. "Did Peter ever show?"
"No," he sighed, and he frowned for a brief moment. "Probably off fighting the Goblin again."
"Yeah," you said. You gnawed on your lip nervously. "Hopefully he's okay."
"He's Peter," Ned said, throwing his elbow into your side gently, "of course he's okay!"
You smiled at him thankfully before the sound of a television in the hall reached your ears. At the mention of Spider-Man, you and Ned approached the screen, a crowd of teenagers already gathered and watching.
"What is it?" you asked, trying not to sound too nervous as you stared at the shaky footage of the camera.
"Some sort of gathering," Gwen said, turning her blonde head to beam at you. "From where Spider-Man saved that group of kindergartners when they were kidnapped by the Green Goblin. They're celebrating him. And look! He's there."
Sure enough, your boyfriend swung into the scene. He was in a black suit, though, identical to the red and blue one he always wore-
A black suit?
"What's he wearing?" Ned asked you, and you shrugged. "He looks awesome."
He landed on the middle of a stage and everyone cheered. He held up his arms and bowed, and Gwen squealed. She had the biggest crush on him. You glanced at Ned and he snickered.
A girl came up on stage and she shook his hand. She was pretty, and you recognized her from your book club. She was a senior, a year older than you, and she was pretty much obsessed with Spider-Man.
Who wasn't, right?
Peter talked to her for a bit and everyone cheered, and then she leaned in and whispered something. He pulled back, a moment paused, she pulled out her cellphone, and then he leaned in and kissed her on the mouth, right through his mask. Her camera flashed as they snapped a selfie of it.
Gwen gasped. "Oh my gosh... how lucky!"
Your heart broke in two.
Ned stiffened, then looked at you. He softly said your name like an apology, but you were already turning from the screen and running down the hallway, feeling like your world had come to a sudden, crashing halt.
...
Peter came into school late, his hair a mess and his face aching with a smile that wouldn't go away. They had thrown a party for him. A freaking party.
He marched into Biology II and walked to his seat, sending his teacher an apologetic smile, and plopped down at his desk. He tossed his backpack on the ground and glanced to his right, where you were usually beaming at him.
Except now you weren't. You were hunched over your table, staring at it with red eyes.
Peter's eyebrows furrowed. He leaned over and tapped your desk with his pen. "Psst! Hey, babe." You looked at him. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"
You gave him a look of disbelief. "Are you really asking me that?"
"Um," he said, "yeah?"
"As if you should even think you have the right to speak to me right now!" you whispered, tears flooding. You looked away again.
He blinked at you. Then, turning back around at his desk, he stared at the whiteboard the teacher was writing on. But he wasn't paying attention to the notes. He was tapping the desk with his pen cap and wondering what it was he did. He ran over his plans for the week. Had he missed a date? An anniversary? No way, your anniversary was in May...
Oh.
Oh.
The kiss.
The kiss.
"Oh," he said, and he turned back to you. He leaned close, voice a loud whisper. "Hey... baby, that kiss was nothing, okay? Just a fan asking for something."
You stared at him in hurt disbelief. "Nothing?" you asked, voice low. "Are our kisses nothing, too?"
"What? No!" he gasped. "How could you say that?"
"How could you kiss someone else?" you demanded, crying softly now. You pressed your fist against your mouth to keep quiet, and it smeared some of your lipstick.
"It was for a fan!" he hissed.
You shook your head at him and started to gather your things. "I don't even know you anymore," you said, tears falling. You got up and left.
"___," your teacher called after you, and Peter put his head down on his desk.
"She feels sick," he lied, and he glared at the door, feeling angrier by the moment.
...
Peter found you at the bus stop and grabbed your hand. He had been chasing you down for hours. You had ditched lunch and he was worried about you.
"Babe!" he exclaimed, making you turn to look at him. "Listen to me for a minute, okay?"
"Pete," you said, all sad and angry, "are you even capable of understanding how horrible it was to watch that? And you- what were you wearing? What happened to your suit?" You shook your head and sighed. "You are so different now. It's awful... what you've become... you're not my Peter. You're, like, a stranger." You pulled your hand away. "I mean, you kissed someone. Kissed them! Why would you do that?"
"It was for-"
"A fan," you repeated dryly. "I got it."
"___-" He was drowned out by the city bus as it screeched and sputtered and groaned, coming to a stop by the sidewalk.
"You've changed," you said.
"You're overreacting," he said. He tried to smile. "All of this isn't a big deal!"
"It isn't?" you asked. You gave a gasp of disbelief. "Imagine if it was me, Peter. Imagine if I kissed some boy even though I knew you could see it. Imagine how you would feel."
And then Peter understood.
He understood how big of a jerk he had been, how all of the Spider-Man stuff had gone to his head, how he had suddenly begun to see himself as an icon. And he remembered, with a kick of sadness in his chest, that he was Peter Parker, the nerdy eleventh grade boy that had a couple of funny, wonderful friends and a girlfriend that was the sweetest person he had ever known and loved.
He loved you-
And he had-
He had-
Oh.
"Oh," he said. Dread filled him. "Oh, gosh. ___," he whispered, and his voice filled with tears, and his eyes, and his throat- and he choked on them. "Babe. I am so sorry."
You ducked your head and shook it. He cupped your face. "Pete," you said sadly. "It's-"
"I'm such a jerk," he mumbled. "I am so sorry-"
"Pete," you said again, and you tilted your head up and looked at him, and he kissed you. You raised up and wrapped your arms around him, pushing up against him. "It's okay," you whispered when he broke off for a breath, and he shook his head. "Hey. It's okay. Sometimes you forget who you are- but guess what? Pete, I'll always be here to bring you back. Always."
He stared at you. He stared at you, his kind, loving, beautiful, forgiving (so forgiving) girlfriend, and he started to cry again. Not because he was sorry or ashamed or anything (which he was) but because you were somehow his, and he couldn't get over the thankfulness he had for you.
He kissed you again, because you were his everything, and he couldn't figure out another way he could show you that.