Like Two Drops of Water - Spideychelle

Chapter 1: Studying Together

Michelle's p.o.v.

"PETER!" I yelled, causing everyone's heads in the study room to turn to Peter and I. I'm not going to lie, having everyone look at me at the same time gave me a bit of a rush, a rarity when it comes to me. I scolded Peter, but his smile persisted and his other hand was in his hair.

At this point you might be wondering: other hand? What happened to his first hand? And I'll grudgingly answer you this: it was holding my calculus book, currently out of my reach. If your natural next question is why? Then you're up to speed.

"Yes." He answered calmly. His stupid face was looking overly confident. Definitely more confident than he should have been as, like I mentioned before, he had stolen my calculus book. I was not in the mood for his playful self.

I leaned out of my seat to grab it from him, a prospect which shouldn't have been too unattainable given how he was sitting right next to me. But somehow he still managed to snatch it away.

Figuring that I should switch tactics as I had gotten closer to his face in the last minute than I typically liked to find myself, and he was looking particularly amused by that notion, I leaned back in my seat again, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows to visually establish my dominance over him.

"Give it back." I said simply but sternly, having decided that I needed no other means of persuasion than my own voice.

"Uuuh, no." Peter replied casually.

"Give it back now!"

"No! You were being mean!" He said, like I was a kindergarten teacher (making him the toddler.)

"I was not being mean!" I exclaimed while instinctively reaching for the book once more, only for him to snatch it away once more.

"Okay, okay, you can have it back." He reasoned.

To my relief he handed it back — my brain couldn't have handled being that close to him any longer. But just before I was about to take it into my safe hands, he jerked the book away for a fourth time. I swear sometimes his agility was superhuman. I was at a total loss. Recently Peter had become sort of annoying in a worse way than usual. It could only be described as a very stomach stirring and provocative way... He'd become more physical when he teased me, like now for example, and more confident. I still wasn't sure what had led to this development.

Peter was taking a look around the room, book-holding hand high in the air and without a care in the world.

I took some time to assess the situation. Seeing as he had not backed down from any of my three attempts at getting hold of that book, I decided it was best to fold at this point.

"Fine. I am mean. But how can I stop something, which is such a vital part of my personality?" I argued. "It's like me asking you not to be late for a decathlon — you. just. can't. do. it." I faked a pity-smile, knowing I had him. But the book stayed locked in its position above his fondly smiling face, leaving me briefly wondering how his muscles weren't giving in yet.

After waiting in agony for Peter to say something, do something except smile boastfully, I continued, "So we're just going to sit here and stare and not get anything done?" I asked hopelessly while eyeing the clock taped to the wall.

His demeanour changed, "That could be fun!" He said in that joyous childlike tone he often used.

"Peter."

"Yes?"

I motioned at the clock with my pen. "Don't you have someplace to be?"

For once Peter was the one to look disappointed as he noticed the time. He immediately began to gather his things, leaving the notorious book disregarded on the table like it henceforth meant nothing to him. Ridding it of all the memories attached.

"You hold nothing sacred." I stated while grabbing the book as quickly as I could before those reflexes of his had a chance to kick in.

Peter ignored me. "See, this is why you're a mean person. If you hadn't said anything, I would have had some more precious minutes of staring and not getting anything done. I mean who even keeps track of their friends' arrangements?" He rambled on in the same witty manner he'd carried since we had first sat down about an hour ago.

Once he'd left I sat back, finally able to relax and return to my studies. Finally I could read again. Although I found myself having to force away the feeling that the book might have been better off in Peter's hand after all, sitting next to me.

Peter's p.o.v.

"Have you been studying with M.J.?" Ned asked from behind his computer.

"Yeah." I said, sitting down across from him. "How did you know?"

"You're a little flushed. You're overtly happy. Your hair is all over the place, presumably from fiddling with it, and you just generally look all dopamine-y." Ned gestured to my whole self. "It's like an airborne virus, transmitting through the air. It's all around us." He looked around the room skeptically before returning to his computer.

"...Okay Sherlock." I said slowly while placing my bag on the seat next to me. "How's it going?" I leaned over to try and see what he was doing. Ned and I had launched a plan to disable Mr. Stark's tracking device he had installed in my suit. The plan had turned out to not be as easy as it had seemed upon its inauguration.

Ned ignored my question, eyes instead scanning the screen rapidly. "So are you going to ask her to homecoming?" Ned mumbled.

Glad we're still on this subject. "What? Michelle?" I turned to make sure she hadn't wandered into the room unexpectedly. We had told her that we had some private business to attend to, since she didn't know about Spidey. She hadn't seemed to care in the least, but you could never be too sure about M.J. "Why would I do that? We'll hang out the whole night either way." I reasoned.

Ned kept scanning the screen, "First of all: you asking her to go with you, and both of you showing up separately are two entirely different things that will inevitably lead to two entirely different outcomes. Second of all: what if someone else asks her?"

"Why would someone else ask her?" I questioned before I'd had a chance to think.

Ned finally looked at me, but it didn't live up to the expectations. He looked at me like I had just laughed at a corpse. "Why wouldn't they?"

I felt really bad, but it had only dawned on me just then — someone else might ask her. I had simply never considered that possibility. Michelle never had a date. Granted, neither did I. Usually at these types of events the three of us would stand awkwardly in the corner, cracking jokes about everything regarding the whole affair and respectfully declining any alcohol that the other students had smuggled inside.

Michelle never has a date. I repeated in my head. She never seemed interested in having one. Why would she be now all of the sudden?

"Yeah, okay. Someone might ask her." I agreed. "Probably not though." I pronounced after a moment's silence, barely believing the words myself and receiving a pair of raised eyebrows from Ned.

Originally published: 1 August 2017