The Other One(STOPPED WRITING)

Chapter 31: What a party, huh?

I put on the best dress that I can actually find in this closet.
There weren't many dresses, really.
I felt bad if I didn't dress up, too.
I wore a black dress that stopped short just above my knees.
The sleeves were black laced. It was kind of see through with the arms, and I didn't want people to see my arm, but it covered it enough.
Anyway, the only other dresses were short sleeved.
I had already put on a bit of makeup that Nat lent me.
She had to show me how to put makeup on a while ago.
I couldn't really remember how.
I hear the music blaring before I even walk out of the room.
I open the door and walk out to where the party was.
Instantly, I saw, well, multiple girls in shorter dresses.
Yeah, Tony, I thought you had a girlfriend or something?
Bucky was no where to be seen, and everybody else hung around and socialized.
Most of them had drinks.
I guess I could drink if I wanted to, but I also couldn't.
I didn't want to taste alcohol anyways, I suppose.
Instantly, I see a few girls glare at me.
Well, my arm.
They'd be too drunk to notice it, sooner or later.
They all danced to the music.
And I, well, had no idea what to do.
I couldn't dance, neither did I want to.
I head over to the bar area and look for any food laying around.
There were some Christmas cookies, so I took one and sat down on the few chairs that were there.
I literally couldn't do anything else.
"Enjoying the party?" Someone asks.
I turn around, seeing Steve standing behind me.
I shrug a bit.
Not really, Rogers.
"Yeah, me neither." He says, sitting down.
He grabs one of the cookies and bites into it.
"Have you seen Peter lately?" Steve asks.
"No, not really. When I do, he's acting kind of strange. Around me at least. I don't even know what I did this time." I say, trying to laugh it off.
I watch as Steve glances up from behind me, trying to make a serious face.
Shit, who was it?
I watch as the person who was behind me grabs a cookie.
Oh, great.
Peter.
"I don't like being talked about." He mutters, coldly, leaving with the cookie.
"What's up with him?" I ask Steve.
He shrugs.
"Kids will be kids. Sometimes they need space." He answers.
"Space, huh? He's practically been avoiding me for the past few days."
"Why do you think?"
"Hah. Look at me, Steve."
He looks down to my metal arm.
"Is that what you're talking about?" He asks, talking about the arm.
"Partially."
"What else are you talking about then?"
"Steve. I was literally a mass murderer for over 70 years. And, yes, I have a metal arm which freaks people out. I, in general, freak people out." I answer.
He sighs.
"Look, Sarah, everything about you is perfectly fine. So what if you have a metal arm? So what if you were a mass murderer? It's not like you meant to."
I hold up my metal arm.
"This thing probably murdered... dozens of people." I sigh.
"Don't think about it like that, Sarah. Think on the positive side."
"Yay! This thing murdered dozens of people!!" I say, pretending to be cheery.
He laughs a bit, "That's not what I mean. I mean, just try not to think about the possible things that happened. I mean, you could do stuff much easier with that." He explains.
"You're right, I guess."
"Always am." He smirks, standing up to leave.
"If you need me, just give me a holler." He mentions.
"Will do." I mutter.
I watch across the room as Peter goes into an emptier room.
I decide to get up and follow him.
I really wanted to know what was going on with him.
He pushes open a door and I follow.
The door closes and I open it again.
He pauses in his tracks, knowing it was probably me.
"What do you want, Sarah?" He asks, without turning around.
"I'm sorry, I talked about you to Steve." I say.
"Yeah, I heard. It's fine, can you just leave?"
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why don't you want me around you?"
He finally turns around and he just shrugs.
"Did I do something?" I ask.
He just shrugs again, keeping a straight face.
"Can you at least answer me?" I ask, calmly.
I really didn't want to lose my temper, which happened easily.
He doesn't answer me.
"Tell me!" I shout at him.
He moves back a bit, not expecting me to shout.
It's not like anyone heard with the music playing.
He struggles to put words together.
"Did I do something?" I ask.
"No." He answers, shouting back at me.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No."
"Is it the arm?!"
"No!"
"Then what is it? What can possibly make you want to avoid me!?"
He struggles to answer at first.
"Because you're a freak, Sarah! Who knows what you're gonna do?" He shouts back at me.
My face suddenly doesn't fall as angry.
I wasn't angry.
I was just, confused.
"What?" I ask, not sure if I heard him right.
I felt tears starting to well into my eyes.
He wasn't wrong.
I was a freak.
Confirmed.
His face softens a bit, but he doesn't break his angry look.
He nods a bit and steps back.
He looked as though he just regret what he said.
"You heard what I said." He says, pushing past me to leave the room.
I stared at the spot he just stood.
I couldn't even believe it.
Had I been being fed lies this whole time?
He told me I was his friend.
He laughed with me.
He smiled with me.
He cried for me.
And for what?
This?
I collapse against the wall, crying where I sat.
The door was closed, so nobody would probably come in here.
I couldn't do this.
I sit up, in anger, confusion, and sadness.
I, unaware, start throwing objects off the table.
Well, shit.
Whenever I got upset or angry, my powers kind of went out of my control.
And now, this room was a mess.
I look around, realizing what I've done.
I begin to cry even more, trying to pick everything that had fallen back into place.
Suddenly, the door opens.
I turn to see who it was.
Oh, great, Stark.
And Bruce.
My whole body was already shaking as I cried on the floor, trying to pile papers together.
"What the hell did you do?" Stark asks, not realizing how upset I am.
This question just makes me cry and shake even more.
All I did was fuck things up.
"Tony..." Bruce says.
"What?" He asks him.
"Just look." Bruce says, pointing toward me.
Tony's face softens a bit as he realizes how upset I really was.
He walks over to me.
I don't know why he was suddenly feeling sympathy for me, if that's what he was doing.
He had more than 4 drinks, I assume.
Yet, here he was.
He crouched down, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I flinch, causing him to move his hand off of me.
"Don't touch me," I choke out through tears, "I'll probably just hurt you like the freak I am."
He looks over to Bruce, who was kind of in a bit of a shock.
"Kid, what happened?" Tony asks.
"I've been confirmed a freak. That's what." I whisper.
"You're not a freak, kid."
"Piss off. You've said it yourself a couple times before." I remind him.
He gets up and walks back to the door, sighing.
The door closes and the only people left in the room is Bruce and I.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Bruce asks.
"Not really." I answer.
"Who said it to you?"
"What?"
"Who told you that you were a freak?"
I sit in silence for a few moments before answering.
"Peter. Peter did."
His eyes widen in shock.
"Peter? Peter Parker? The kid?"
I nod.
He seems shocked and a bit upset.
Sort of angry.
He opens the door, leaving.
Probably going to find Peter or Tony.
And I'm left alone.