Hatchetfield.

my broken bones are mending

Homecoming has been... fun.

Truly, Peter never expected to ever attend homecoming, or prom for that matter. For a long time they were far off events on far off days, and besides, even if he had expected to go, he had no one to ask, and it's not like Max would have ever let him in.

No, his plans had been the same since about sophomore year. He, Richie and Ruth would pool all their money together and go all out. Snacks, pizza, and a real good movie. It'd be vote, of course. Richie voting for an animated film, Peter voting for a classic horror movie, and Ruth would go for an adaptation of a stage musical. They'd all pile onto the couch in the Spankoffski living room, homecoming a far off dream.

And now...

Well, now Pete's dancing with Stephanie Lauter at homecoming, without Ruth and Richie. He's trying his best not to think about it, but being at school brings out the memories. Good and bad. Still, Pete wants tonight to be about Steph—after everything, she deserves a fun night. Just one night, at least.

She steps on his toe again and winces. "Shit, sorry," she says, looking up at him with a small smile.

Peter smiles back and shrugs. "It's fine—could barely feel it." That isn't true, it really fucking hurts. "You're getting better. At dancing, I mean."

"You're just saying that to be nice," Steph laughs and leans into him as they turn again.

Alongside tap Peter had taken some ballroom dancing classes. With Ruth as his partner. Not that he's trying to ballroom dance or anything—sure it's a slow song, but this is only homecoming.

The song comes to a close and they leave the dance floor. A quick break will be good. Give Peter a chance to rest his sore toes. Steph heads off grabs them some drinks and he lingers near the snack table, nibbling on a tiny pretzel when Grace walks over to him.

"Jason is an awful dancer," she complains with a groan, grabbing a handful of chips from a bowl and shoving them into her mouth. "He keeps stepping on my toes, it's like he has two left feet or something."

Peter holds back a laugh—it seems both their dates are bad dances. Though, Grace appears a lot more annoyed by this fact. "I'm sure he's trying his best."

"Yeah, well, his best isn't good enough."

With two plastic cups of punch in hand Steph returns, handing one over to Pete. He sniffs the drink. Smells... fruity. "Oh, hey, Grace." She takes a sip, rasiging a brow at the other girl. "Where's Jason?"

"Ugh, probably on the dance for falling all over himself. That boy has no rhythm."

Steph shrugs. "You could always lead—it's way easier to dance when you're being led by someone." She glances over at Peter, he blushes and alerts his eyes. A smile pulling at his lips.

"Me? Lead?" At first Grace seems very opposed to the idea, shaking her head and her mouth opens to object. Then, she pauses. Thinks about it. A small smile tugs at her lips. "You know, that isn't a bad idea..." Grace whips around and storms back towards the dance floor. "Jason!"

They watch her leave and burst into a fit of giggles once she's out of ear shot. Steph downs the rest of her punch and tosses the little plastic cup into the trash can by tbhe table.

"That girl is..." She shakes her head as her sentence trails off. "Something else, for sure."

Peter shrugs, unable to smile as Grace leads Jason through the next song. He can't help but notice Jasons seems much more comfortable following her. "I don't know, she's mellowed out over the past few weeks," he says, taking another sip of his punch, "she's been kinda fun to hang out with. Sometimes, I guess."

"Don't jinx us now—we have no idea what she has planned for tonight. What if she's got one of those Carrie like contraptions set up for whoevers crowned homecoming queen?"

Steph does have a point—a little. Peter doesn't think Grace would ever do anything quite like the bullies in Carrie, but she did try and get the dance cancelled. Perhaps he is speaking too soon, sometimes being around Grace is almost like an omen.

Instead of saying any of that Pete says, "you've read Carrie?"

She shakes her head with a quiet laugh, "no, I'm not much of a reader. I watched the film."

"Which one?"

"I don't know, the newest one?"

"Oh no—you have to watch the original movie," he says, unable to help himself, "it's the best one—really captures the essence of the book."

Steph grins at him and takes his hand, "well, maybe we could watch it together sometime," the suggestion makes him blush, and Steph reaches over to grab his plastic cup of punch. She downs the rest of his drink too and throws away the cup, dragging him towards the back doors. "But for now, I need some air."

It's cold outside. Colder than it should be, but since homecoming had been delayed so much, it's the start of November. Their breathes are visible in the air, and it's as if someone has slapped Pete across the face. Still, the cold doesn't damper Stephs grin as she presses her hands to his chest and lightly pushes him back. He hits the brick wall behind him and shivers, whether from the thrill or the cold, he can't tell.

Pete blinks down at her, his breath gone at the sight of her. She's beautiful in the moonlight, half her face lit by the amber glow of the light spilling from the gym. Steph leans up and wraps a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs and ducks down to meet her lips. Her other hand grips at his vest to pull him closer, and Pete's hand dances along her shoulder and down to her hand.

Steph intertwines their fingers and lifts their hands, pressing his hand into the brick behind him. She pulls back and looks at him for a moment, presss a soft kiss to his cheek, then his jaw, then further down.

A final smile is pressed to his pulse and Steph looks up at his again. "You're cute, Spankoffski," she says, her lipstick slightly smudged. And probably covering his face and neck... She reaches up and fixes his askew glasses, brushes a strand of his hair behind his ear. "And you're blushing bright red."

"Can you blame me?" He huffs, sure the flush on his skin is only worsening under her coy stare. "I'm starting to feel a little light-headed," he says and he fans himself, burning up despite the prior cold.

She raises a brow. "Wanna check your blood, just to be sure?"

That... Is probably a good idea, huh? Peter nods and lets out a mixture of a sigh and groan and when Steph steps back give him space. On one hand he's cooling down already, on the other he wants Steph right near him all the time. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone—clicks on the app in the top left corner.

"I think I'm fine."

"You sure?" Steph reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a Hershey's bar, holding it out to him. "I have this if you need it."

"Oh, you don't have to give me your chocolate," he says, "you should have it."

Steph laughs—at what, he doesn't know. Did he make another joke by accident again? Probably... "No—it isn't mine, I brought it with me for you."

Oh. He hadn't expected that. No one besides Ted ever does that. He flushes again at the thought—at the kindness. Without wanting anything in return.

"Oh."

She forces it into his hand with a smile. "Eat it, I don't want you passing out on me. 'kay?"

Peter rolls his eyes and unwraps the chocolate, taking a bite. "I won't pass out—promise." She shrugs her shoulders as if to say, whatever, and fine. Maybe she's right.

In his excitement getting ready he'd totally forgotten about bringing a snack—had assumed he wouldn't need one. There was a whole snack table in the gym. Except, well, they're not in the gym any more.

He finishes the rest of the chocolate bar and crumples the wrapper into ball, slips into his front pocket. "There," he says, "can... can you kiss me again, now?"

The question has Steph grinning at him again and she leans forward, their noses just an inch or two apart. "Well... Since you asked so nicely..."

Yeah. Peter totally gets why he forgot