Anthony sits as far away from me as possible in class. We took the bus separately to school, and we do not speak the entire day. I spend the whole lunch in the library, pouring over the notes that I've collected on Spider-man.

Discovering his identity has been completely off my radar. Now, pouring over the notes, I realize it's been weeks since I've seen him, and I have no desire to chase after him. I don't even want my private eye job back. I'm just tired.

MJ sits across from me the whole time, but she doesn't try to talk to me. Her company keeps me from going insane. Actually, maybe I've already gone crazy. After all, I'm a teenager who has turned her phone off (to avoid the fact that I expect Dantae to text me a dozen times, but he never does).

After school, I meet Peter at his locker. He's dressed up in his typical sweater and button-up combo, but I can tell that the collar of the button-up has been ironed. It makes me more aware that I am just wearing normal clothes, but I hope that he doesn't mind.

Anthony walks by, but I say nothing.

"You guys still aren't talking, huh?" he says as we head out of the school.

I nod. "I haven't heard from Dantae either. He's mad at me for being so rude when I found out, you know?"

I swallow back bile because I get the feeling it's more than that. Dantae and I have discovered something deep and dark about each other, that I am still trying to piece together.

We take the subway together and get back to his house. On the way, I turn my phone on to text Mama that I won't be home for dinner. The ride feels like it takes forever.

Like I used to do, Peter doesn't hold on to the subway. I wish I still had his courage, but I cling on for dear life, in case my body goes flying and slams into another seat. Maybe what I really wish is that my balance came back. I wonder why Peter doesn't play any sports, since he seems so fit, but I don't dwell on it.

After all, he's too busy with robotics and academic decathalon, and the biochem lab, and every other crazy thing that he does.

"I can't believe it's not April yet," I tell him. "March has been the longest month of my life."

"Is that a problem?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

I smile, my hands running along the poll. I smooth out the fabric of my black jacket, trying to ease the sound of crinkling when our shoulders brush. This moment feels perfect anyway, but I want it to be more perfect. Does that even make any sense?

"I've kind of liked March," he shrugs his shoulders. "It means that I... uh... I got to really get to know you."

"And all the disasters in my life?" I laugh.

"Really, it's just been Anthony's Dad, your brother's friends incident, and you falling over on a bus," Peter offers. "It feels like a lot, but it's not too much."

I realize now that there is so much I haven't told him. Like, how with Anthony living with us, we've had to let go our cousins who used to work at the Bodega. Or my mission to find out Spider-man's identity. I almost rush out to tell him all of it, but I remember what my Mom said about letting comfort grow in silence, so I look down and smile.

When we finally get off at his stop, we make our way up to his place. Inside, he leads me over to his bedroom.

It's clean. I never got the feeling that he would keep it immaculate, like Anthony. On top of his bunkbed, there are containers stored in perfect order. All the books on his shelves have been cleaned up and put in order. I can see fabric sticking out from beneath the closer door though, which probably means he haphazardly stuffed it full. Which means he cleaned up just for me.

He grabs a chessboard off his desk and brings it down. "I figured we could play together?"

I nod my head. "I'm not very good, but we can try."

It turns out, Peter is very good. He wins round after round, destroying me. After the third game, I manage to take his queen.

"Are you going easy on me?" I ask.

"No," he says the word too quickly, and it comes out in too high of a pitch.

"You can't lie to me," I counter, smiling. "And not because I'm reading your mind."

He sighs. "Okay, maybe I am going easy on you. I just..." he pauses looking up at me. "I hate the way you pout when you lose."

My cheeks flush with heat. "I do not pout."

"Oh, yes you do," he argues, a smile on his face. "Don't even lie to me, Darcy. I may not be able to read minds like you, but I can certainly tell."

In two moves, he takes my king. I roll my eyes and lie down on the ground. He moves up next to me, so that we are both lying with our heads touching. His hair feels soft as it brushes against my ear. We both stare up at the ceiling.

He turns to face me and I follow his movements. We are so close that our noses are touching. My phone buzzes, probably my Mama, but I don't dare move.

"Are you going to uh, get that?" he asks, his eyes darting down at my buzzing phone.

I shake my head. "No."

I don't tell him that it's because I want to stay with him here forever. On the floor of his bedroom, looking over at his brown eyes. They look soft. Every part of him looks cozy. Even the sharp contours of his face.

"No," he asks.

I shake my head, and my nose brushes against his once more.

God, do I want to kiss him.

I inch in closer, and I smile when he copies my movements.

"What?" he grins.

"Nothing," I don't shake my head, because our lips are practically touching already. I don't want to close the gap. I can't. My stomach is bubbling up.

"Nothing?" he asks.

I shake my head back and forth, and our lips touch.

I lean in and kiss him. He kisses me back, but his body stays rigid. I smile, lifting a hand up to his hair and pulling him in tighter. One of his hands rests delicately on my cheek. We sit still for a second, not moving.

Then, he pulls back.

"Did, uh, did you just kiss me?" he asks.

I giggle, trying to bite it back. "Yeah. I did."

"Because it feels like a dream," he whispers, his lips brushing against mine once more. "It feels too good to be true."

I lean in and kiss him once more. This time, his hands find their way around my waist. I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest. He pulls back and brushes a loose strand of hair out of my face.

"Did that time feel real?" I ask him.

"If I say no, will uh, will you kiss me again?" Peter asks.

I laugh and roll on to my back. He joins in with me, and the sound takes over the room. It makes it feel less like a house and more like a home.

Now, I want nothing more than to cuddle up next to him.

"We should watch a movie," I suggest.

Peter pulls himself upright. He begins to move out of the room. "We can pull it up on my laptop. I'll go grab some snacks. Do you, do you want anything in particular?"

"Just a blanket," I shout after him.

"Should be in the closet!"

I pull myself up off the ground, and check my phone first.

It's a text from Dantae.

We need to talk. I think we both know what's going on.

With that, I throw my phone on to Peter's bed. It's soft enough that it will absorb the blow, and my phone will be fine. I can't believe Dantae waited almost 24 hours to text me back. No, I will not answer him. We don't need to talk it through. I'm done talking.

I am a man of action.

With Peter slamming cupboards in the background as he looks for snacks, I make my way to the closet. When I open the door, a bunch of things spill out. I was right; he did clean for me. As I sort through the stuff, I find a single black shoe.

My black shoe.

The one that I lost when Spider-man was chasing after me.

~~~~~

Welp. That's a big oops, isn't it? It excites me so greatly. I'm trying to reinvigorate my passion for this book. It's hard to motivate myself when my other books are more successful. Does anyone even read this? I'll probably never ask again, but please vote/comment if you do. It would mean the world to me.

Thanks.