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NINE; 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕!
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TO TELL THE truth, Peter never thought he would end up liking Clara Rose this much. Without rhyme or reason, he'd come up hopeless for this one unfortunate girl who had the gall to swipe Spider-Man's backpack. It was groundless to base his ineffable crush on this fact because still, there was nothing pretty about poverty.
Her situation should've thrown Peter off his stupid fascination. The joke's on catastrophe because he loved to never give a shit. It was part of the superhero package—the liberty to have no responsibility for responsibility. It was what made him put on the suit every day. He freaking lived for it.
Yet, Peter was struggling to keep these irrepressible, overwhelming, gut-tightening emotions in line. He was in denial since he'd met her, but there was no getting it out of it. Now, you may be wondering why he was scared of losing someone he barely knew, and here's his answer: you'd feel the same if you had someone who meant as much to him as Clara Rose did.
Sitting beside him, there was nothing—absolutely and indefinitely—that was going to stop Peter from counting the seconds until Percy da Costa and Ned left them in peace. Clara Rose had promised to tell him everything once they were alone but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
Yes, unfortunately, Percy had gatecrashed this meetup. It was risky, shameless and disgusting of Peter to agree, but Percy wasn't keen on giving up. He had his doubts about the crisis.
"If you're committing identity theft for this girl, she's got to be something," was Percy's explanation for this awful tag-along. Then his face had wrinkled to a sneer. "And I need to know why Bobby was acting weird around me and it better not be because of you two blackmailing psychopaths."
So when Clara Rose questioningly stared at the real Percy da Costa then at Peter, he was forced to say this:
"This is... Pat," Peter declared, somewhat satisfied. He smirked when he got an evil idea. "Short for Patrick Mangina."
He may have gone a bit overboard. Well deserved, though.
Ned hid a half-suppressed laugh behind his palm. Percy kicked Peter under the table but his aim was off. He ended up kicking the balance beam of the table and hiding a painful wince, but his glare was still acidic while it lasted.
Clara Rose cupped a hand around her mouth and indiscreetly whispered up at Peter. "Is that really his last name?"
"Rude. It's a family name," Peter confirmed in mock horror, trying not to get distracted by the sudden proximity between them. "He's fully Italian. It also means exactly like what it sounds."
