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summary: (see last chapter) ALSO: I know most readers don't really listen to the music included in the chapters but PLEASEE listen to it while reading. it gives off serious Peter Parker vibes and just- serotonin.
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Saying that I'm nervous about this party is a serious understatement. I've been watching the street for Peter's car since I got to my grandmother's.
Everything is set up here. Tables and counters full of food inside the big house, the fireworks station is set up all the way across the giant, grassy yard.
There's games like beanbag toss and ultimate frisbee. Kiddie pools for the kids. Water balloons in giant plastic tubs. Sparklers for later as well as floating lanterns. Big speakers playing music.
And everyone either has blankets set out on the grass or chairs to watch the fireworks on. I've been avoiding food because of how anxious I am for this party, but my mother urged me to at least try and eat something. Get something in my system even if it was something small.
So, I munched on a cookie. Hoping it would comfort me a little to where I was more comfortable. It didn't. Especially when I saw Peter pull up and get out of his Uncle Ben's truck.
Ignoring the stares I was receiving from my family, I raced over to him. He smiled, probably hiding a nervousness of his own. Regardless, he opened his arms for a hug. Which I very gratefully buried into.
I felt my pounding heart settle and my head stopped spinning with anxiety. He's always eased my worries, but recently he's been able to do it much easier than usual.
Oh, how clueless I was.
"So, when you said party, I had no idea you meant backyard party."
"I didn't tell you?!" I pulled away slightly with wide eyes, worried that in my anxiety I wasn't thinking clearly enough to pass that info onto him.
He smiled fondly, however. "It's okay, I've heard you say multiple times how lots of your family get togethers are in the backyard of your grandma's place."
"Hey!! There he is!! The guy my niece has been blabbering about every time we all meet up!"
My heart dropped into my stomach. Stirring up the butterflies once again. Well, they're more like the prehistoric version. Pterodactyls. Giant angry bird reptile things.
It's my uncle Steven, and he's drunk. Totally wasted. He stumbled towards us with a hobble and a bottle of beer in his left hand. A cigarette in the right. He pulled the half-smoked lung killer off his lip and aggressively yanked Peter into a tight hug.
