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I never wanted a relationship. I never cared about relationships. All I ever wanted was to do something spontaneous, something that dad would for sure as hell get mad at, and yet I managed to do both those things at once and I regret it.
Peter Parker. Fuck you, Peter Parker. You and your stupid big brown eyes and stupid cute laugh and stupid cute smile ruined my stupid pathetic life – and not in a good way.
Because you love a girl and you probably didn't even know you were leading me on. It's okay Peter Parker, I forgive you, but don't be expecting free sandwiches from now on.
Okay, okay, maybe I'm jumping to conclusions. I tend to do that, I know. But I knew Peter liked Liz and it was stupid of me to even think he could ever like me, a boy, in that way.
I'm not mad anymore though. Hurt? Yes. Not mad though, because it was my fault. I was blinded. I thought I was the only person in his world. The only person who was the cause of that stupid cute laugh, but clearly I wasn't, and that kills me.
And what kills me more is that I'll never know why – why did he run that night? What was he afraid of? My dad? Confrontation? Did he realize what he had done, leading me on?
Come on, thrill me, Parker! I'd love to hear what bullshit excuse you've got to explain why you just left me and never talked to me after that. Also I admit, I didn't make it easy for you the day after. I avoided you at any chance I got but I was hurting and I think it was justified. But what about the rest of the week? Why didn't you come back, Peter? Why did you give up?
