TELEKINETIC │ p.p

Chapter Five

"This is stupid," Vanessa giggled as she held her hand up to Ned's, pressing their palms together.

"I told you you have small hands," Ned chuckles, pushing her hand away.

"Do you and Peter have the same size hands?" Vanessa questioned, actually looking to Peter for an answer. He gave a timid smile and shrugged. The two best friends examined their hands the same way Vanessa and Ned had, causing Ned to erupt with laughter.

"I do not have small hands," Peter calls out, retracting his arm and tucking his hands into his folded arms as Ned continued his miniature bant session.

"I bet Vanessa has bigger hands than you," Ned challenges, knowing how flushed his friend would get.

"I doubt it," Vanessa awkwardly giggles.

"Prove me wrong then," Ned speaks. Vanessa rolls her eyes with a goofy smile plastered across her face, sticking her hand into the air. She gave Peter a look, which instantly made him place his palm against hers.

"See, I was right," Vanessa spoke, moving her hand away with a bit of hesitation.

Their table jolted, causing their pencils and papers to begin their descent off the surface. But Vanessa managed to make it to her pencil and notebook in time, although her arms failed to move. A simple glance stopped them in their tracks immediately. Peter and Ned's belongings slid until they hit the ground. This raised a bit of confusion in her mind.

As Peter and Ned picked up their stuff, Vanessa, in a heavily joking manner, 'used her mind' to bring her pencil to her. Her jaw dropped and eyes widened as the inanimate object actually approached her. She glanced around the room, checking to see if anyone saw what she just witnessed.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Peter chuckles, slamming his notebook and textbook down on the table. When Vanessa didn't respond, Peter was worried something actually made her look this way. "Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing," Vanessa snapped, forcing a smile and a small laugh. "I zoned out a bit there, sorry." She looked at the clock, figuring she'd able to ask to use the bathroom and disappear during lunch faster with this method. "I gotta go, I'll see you guys later." And with that, she stood from her chair, and ran off.

- - - - -

Vanessa slammed her bedroom door shut, causing Peter to ask her what was going on. "Peter," she whispered, sitting right next to him on her bed, "I need to tell you something."

"O-okay," he stuttered. This was it, he thought. She'll confess.

"Don't think I'm crazy, okay?" she questioned.

"I would never," he responds with a calm manner that he was surprised he could pretend to have.

"I think I can move things with my mind," she spoke softly. This was not at all what Peter was thinking she would confess, and he was completely taken aback.

"What? How do you even-"

"First, I stopped my pencil from falling off the table today the period before lunch," she explained, "then I left school for the rest of the day, having Tony call me in sick when we really were trying to figure all of this out - and I lifted a cup into the air, Peter. Five times."

His eyebrows furrowed, his body not comprehending the events she was relaying. "Are you sure you're not just majorly tired?"

"You think I'm crazy," she huffs, exasperated. She stands from her bed and digs the heels of her hands into her forehead. "I knew you would-"

"Wait, why are you even telling me this? Aren't you scared it'll ruin something, like between us or whatever?" That's what Peter was doing - he was keeping his Spider-Man side from her because he did not want her to be seen with Spider-Man and then cause mayhem on her life.

"Tony told me to tell you as soon as I could," she responds. "But I don't even know why I did-"

"No, I'm glad you told me," Peter interjected, standing. Maybe that was a sign; Tony approves of Peter telling Vanessa his hidden identity. "You can tell me anything."

"Please tell me I'm just dreaming," she whimpers. "Tell me that I'm insane and that I can't really move things with my mind."

"I don't even know if you can do it, despite this potentially being a dream or not," he replies. He looks to his right, grabbing the tin can of pens and pencils, balancing it on his palm and holding it away from his body. "Move this back onto the table."

"I can't, Peter-"

"You can."

"No, I can't," she whines. "Wake me up."

"You're awake, Vanessa. This is real," he speaks gently, in a way to smoothly reassure her that this, in fact, was not a dream.

Vanessa took deep inhales and long exhales, shaking out her limbs. Then she concentrated hard on the tin can, straining her eyes so hard she felt they would explode.

But she moved it. She transported it safely from Peter's palm back to the tabletop. Peter was frozen in place, staring at the cup dumbfounded.

"What the hell do I do?" Vanessa questioned, watching Peter begin to hyperventilate and shake. He eventually fell backward, his eye lids fluttering on the way down. "Peter!" Vanessa shouted, rushing to his aid.