Idiosyncratic || Peter Parker ||

||16||

"Nervous?" Peter questioned Isabelle, he leaned up against the lockers beside her whilst Ned mimicked Peter on the other side of her. "What makes you say that?" Isabelle drew out a shaky breath, it was four days until the track tournament and she was most definitely starting to feel the incessant jitter of nerves coursing through her. "You've been staring into your locker for five minutes... and the track tournament is at the end of the week, you aren't the least bit concerned?" Ned chuckled, Peter chuckling as well.  

Isabelle chewed her bottom lip, "I just... I hope I'll be better, come Friday." The three knew she wouldn't be better 'come Friday' because she hasn't had a good day for two whole weeks. "Issie, you've been saying that for weeks now," Peter mentioned softly and put a concerned hand on her shoulder, making her flush slightly. "Maybe it's time you go and see someone." 

She sighed in defeat, knowing it would be futile to argue, "You're right - but after this track tournament is over and out of the way." No regular doctor no matter their speciality would be able to stop her from vomiting, stop the headaches, the nosebleeds, the weight loss, the excruciating pain. It was like she was constantly in a vice, it got tighter and tighter every moment of the day and lead onto the next with even more pain. 

"R-really?" Peter was taken aback by her response immediately, he didn't think she'd be so willing after weeks of her arguing nothing was wrong with her. She knew, he knew, everyone knew there was something wrong. "Yeah, of course. I haven't been getting much sleep at all, I get exhausted over simple things... I suppose I better find out what's wrong." She chuckled half heartedly, earning sympathetic glances from both the boys. 

It was much more than lack of sleep and exhaustion but, Isabelle being Isabelle kept that to herself. One couldn't blame her for doing so, it was either a small act of selflessness or stupidity depending on who was asked. 

The high pitch ringing of the bell echoed through the halls, signalling five minutes to first period. For the three at Isabelle's locker, it was PE first up, followed by Chemistry, Biology and Social studies. A particularly mundane day for the three. Walking toward the gymnasium, Isabelle drums her fingers on the leather bound notebook she carried in her arms. Contained within the pages was her list of names, thirty people were left on that list and she had yet to get through it. Just thirty left. 

After changing into her PE gear and regrouping with Ned and Peter, did they see just how much she changed after a month and a bit. Her royal blue Midtown shirt hung loosely over her torso, it could pass as a dress it was so much bigger than her and the shorts she wore were rolled up and tied so that they wouldn't fall from her hips. She most definitely didn't look to be in shape for Friday, nor did it look like she could successfully execute one single push up. 

Ned and Peter partnered together, helping each other do sit ups. "Do you think she looks worse than yesterday?" Ned questioned, he held Peter's knees in as he started the first wave of sit ups, pulling himself forward, Peter hit Ned's shoulder lightly, "dude, don't say that." But he had to agree that she looked even worse for wear than she had yesterday if that was even possible. It had been not even a ten-hour break since he saw her last but yet she looked as though she hadn't eaten anything for months, which perplexed them both considering how much she ate at lunch and dinner. 

"It's true, I know you're thinking it." Ned defended, glancing over at Isabelle who was partnered with Liz. Both girls having a seemingly pleasant conversation. "Since when were they friends?" He asked Peter, looking back down at him. "I think it's more of an acquaintance type situation, Ned... and so what if I'm thinking that - you can't just say things like that..." Ned rolled his eyes at his brown haired friend scoffing slightly, "you're only saying that because you like her." Peter pulled himself up and cupped his mouth with a pleading look, "Ned, shut up." he whispered harshly, gazing over where Isabelle and Liz were.