Me & Gwen Stacy

seven

-seven- 

Gwen POV

"Oh my gosh honey! Finally!" 

These were my mother's words when I told her I was going to a party Friday night.

Sad, I know. Being the ultra great A+ student that I am, I never really... well. I never really got out much. I had never been totally into the partying scene considering all the time I spent focusing on school. Then there was the added fact that the stories my dad told me of teen parties gone wrong had always scared the living bejesus out of me. But now that he was gone I guess I felt like I could be more free. I know, sounds terrible to say, but I wanted to experience something new. And I knew I had a good head on my shoulders. It's not like I was planning to get myself drunk out of my mind, or killed or anything. I knew better than that.

I had gotten all dressed up, shucked on makeup-- which nowadays was a rare thing for me-- hailed a cab and found myself standing in Harry Osborn's humungo penthouse. I had been here before with Peter, but then size of this place never ceased to amaze me. But now amazing couldn't even cover how it looked now. 

It had been transformed, and his usual living quarters looked like some Hollywood club, if I'd ever seen one. The beat of some techno dance song was loud and reverbrating, making the house seem like it had it's own pulse. I gave a cursory glance to the Dj booth, all the people shimming to the music, red solo cups raised in the air. My eyes swept over everything, and then stopped at the door to the balcony.

There in the doorway stood the bane of my existence Mr. Peter Parker himself. And trailing behind him like a lost puppy-- an incredibly gorgeous lost puppy-- was his new red headed play toy. MJ he called her.

Haven't even had a drink and I already feel pukey. 

I should have walked with anti-nausea meds or something. Cause their extremely friendly proximity was about have me yaking all over the dance floor. I walked absently to the snack table all the while my eyes pathetically glued to everyone's favourite new couple. They weren't official-- cause I mean it had been two days, no one could work that fast, not even her-- but I knew everyone thought they would be perfect together. 

Cause they would be and it was disgusting. 

I slowly lifted a tortilla chip to my lips wondering vaugly why I was torturing myself watching them-- him like a woeful fangirl, but I still couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from Mr. and Miss congeniality. Not until he met my gaze. 

I looked away hastily and busied myself with filling a cup with whatever substance I could find. Wouldn't my dad be proud.

"Oh, look everyone, it's MJ. Isn't she perfect? She's a model, and an aspiring actress and a singer, and my new BFF..." I mummbled to myself imagining how Peter would describe her, "Mary Jane the smoking hot babe who has recently stollen my heart and feeble brain away..." I took a gulp of the drink I had poured and almost choked.

Then almost choked again when I heard a deep male voice from behind me.

"You know, I was about to come and ask you to dance, but if you're into girls..."

Eyes wide and face hot with embarrasment I turned to meet the gaze of one especially good looking guy. Best part? He wasn't Peter.

Worst part, this hot piece of hunkiness had overheard my recent... diatribe. Competely unattractive.

"Uh, no. No, no, no." Insert nervous laughter, "I-- um..."

How could I explain this without sounding like a freak?