LOUD MOUTH → PETER PARKER ✓

Chapter Fourteen: Fire Escape Escapades

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: FIRE ESCAPE ESCAPADES

Callie went home, knowing her mom wouldn't be there when she arrived. She had to admit, it was nice to feel home again. Callie skipped the rest of the school day out of spite―spite towards whom, she didn't know.

But she was angry, that was for sure. Sure, maybe she thought she superhero thing would be cool, but that was only for a day. Before Peter managed to ruin it with his stupid stubbornness. This was just like when he would get in fights with Flash, and Callie would always ask herself why on earth he would provoke him if he knew he was going to get his ass kicked. At some point, she figured that was just who he was. But she didn't have to like it.

Callie barricaded herself in her bedroom with a box of fruit roll-ups and set out to do all her homework for the entire week in the span of a few hours.

Fueled by sugar and anger, she finished an essay, a page of geometry proofs, a biology packet, and read half of Jane Eyre by nightfall. When it was all over and she checked her planner nearly two dozen times to make sure everything had been done, she collapsed back on her bed and let her eyes shut for what felt like the first time in years.

For a moment, she thought she might just fall asleep this way, surrounded by loose papers and textbooks, when three dull thuds came from the window next to the fire escape. Her eyes opened reluctantly and she sat up, peering out the window.

Peter was sitting on the fire escape in his suit, looking like he had had one hell of a fight with the Lizard. But he was alive, and that was the only reason Callie jumped up to open the window.

"You're not dead." she said, keeping her voice low and annoyed. "Shocker."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm an asshat, I know. Can I come in now?" Peter mumbled in a strained voice.

Callie stepped back and motioned for him to come in. He climbed through the window and Callie noticed that he looked like he was in pain. When he turned, she saw three claw-like slashes across his chest.

Her eyes went wide. "Oh my god," she murmured. "It did that to you?"

"Pennywise?"

"I'll kick you out right now."

"Yes, the Lizard. He was in the sewers." Peter said, sitting down in a chair in the corner. He grimaced, clearly in serious pain.

"That's terrifying." Callie sighed. "Time to put my limited medical knowledge to the test." She stalked off into the bathroom and reappeared with a towel and rubbing alcohol.

Peter eyed the bottle with suspicion. "What are you doing?"

"You have to clean cuts, didn't you learn that in Boy Scouts or something?"

When he continued to give her a look, she snapped, "Do you want to get Sepsis and die?"

Begrudgingly, Peter took off the top part of his suit, revealing the cuts in their entirety. Callie cringed and looked away.

Peter scoffed teasingly. "What? Are you afraid of blood?"

"No, but it's not my favorite thing to look at!"

"Haven't you seen, like, seven season of Criminal Minds?"

"TV blood is different. It looks like food coloring." Callie huffed, shakily pouring alcohol on the towel. "This is probably gonna sting. Don't bitch about it unless you want me to say 'I told you so'."

Callie didn't exactly know how to clean a cut―especially ones like this―but she tried her best. she could tell Peter tried not to complain about the sting, probably because he would rather suffer than hear her say 'I told you so'.

But she had to admit, she worried about him while he was gone, and she hated that she couldn't have gone a single second without worrying.

She put the bottle of alcohol back in her bathroom cabinet and shoved the blood-soaked towel into the trash. There was no way that was coming out now.

Moonlight lit up her room as she walked back and sat next to Peter on the floor with her knees tucked to her chest. For a moment they sat in silence.

Finally, Peter sighed, "Say it."

"I told you so," she said immediately, before quietly adding, "bitch."

"I probably deserve that."

There was silence for another moment before Callie buried her face in her hands and groaned. "I hate this."

Peter looked at her. "What?"

"That I can't stay mad at you." she admitted quietly. "I never have, and I don't think I ever will. Trust me, I wish I could."

"You're not the only one." Peter laughed lightly.

"So then what the hell do we do? If the superhero thing is going to scare the hell out of me, and you're too stubborn to quit, what do we do? Spend the rest of our lives trying to be mad at each other?"

"I guess we'll just have to deal with it."

Callie scoffed, "Easier said than done."

She moved to get up, up Peter caught her hand and brought her back down.

"Does it really scare you that much?" he asked.

Callie swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. "If I said yes would you stop?"

"I don't think I have a choice."

Her eyes started to fill with tears. "Yes."

She pulled her hand out of his and got up, trying to blink back the tears before they even had a chance to fall.

"Callie―"

"I think you should go." she said, her voice wavering. She threw her hands up in surrender. "I just . . I can't deal with whatever the hell you're going to―"

Before she could finish the sentence, something attached onto her arm, swung her around and pulled her forward. Startled by the sudden pull, she tripped forward and landed in Peter's arms, a thin web stuck to her wrist.

Callie looked up, her face dangerously close to Peter's. Her heart nearly in her throat, she spoke, her voice shaking lightly. "You're making kicking you out really hard for me."

He smiled, one of his hands coming up to cup her face. "I know."

And then it happened―that scene that always happened in Callie's cheesy 90s teen rom-coms. The scene where the best friend finally works up whatever impossible amount of courage it takes to just kiss them. And every time, there's always the conflict going on in both heads, wondering the same thing: How the hell is this going to end? But no one really know until it happens.

In that moment, there wasn't much Callie knew for sure. She didn't know who moved to kiss the other first, or why. But what she did know was that it was quick and instantaneous, sending a shiver down her spine. And she didn't know who really pulled back first, but that she and Peter were back to looking into each others' eyes in moments.

And Callie could tell from the look in his eyes that he had been the one to kiss her―and that he didn't regret it.

"I―"

"Shut up," Peter murmured, kissing her again.

This time, she knew to kiss back, one of her arms on his shoulder and one behind his neck, pulling him closer. One of his hands was on her waist, and the other frozen in mid-air, still attached to the web on her wrist.

Callie knew this was the point of no return. She had no control over what would happen after this―if their friendship, relationship, whatever it was, went to ruin, she had no say in how it happened and no way to save it.

But in that moment, that didn't scare her.