DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE [ SPIDEYCHELLE ]

0.9

"I wanna talk to Peter Parker, not Spider-Man."

____

DECATHLON PRACTICE on Friday afternoon was something else. Not much was different, except Michelle's attitude. Her voice was usually quite calm, and reminded Peter of the gentle waves on a beach or the sound of rain hitting his window at 2am on a rainy spring night in April. But that day at practice was different. Her voice was irritated, and reminded him too much of brutally cold winter mornings when it wasn't a crisp cold, but one that made your face hurt so much it was like it was burning. Michelle wasn't happy, and he could tell by the look in her eyes whenever she looked at him. She was angry about something, but it couldn't be him. He left her alone like she wanted, he didnt bug her about the sweater even once, and he made sure to be on time to practice that day. He didn't know what was wrong with her.

When practice came to a close, Michelle was the first one out, something she never did. She had heaved the bag off the ground and around her small shoulders, the sweater slipping off one side as she seemed to storm out. The door slammed against the wall and gave everyone a shock, before it slowly closed shut. Everyone had continued to go about silently, nobody entirely sure why she was in such a bad mood.

Michelle rushed out of the school and down the front steps, her long legs clad in her 'mom' jeans carrying her along the concrete sidewalk. She didn't want to go home in a mood as low as she was in, so she went to one of the few places she could unwind and calm herself with a hot drink and reading one of her books. The place where she seemed to seek her refuge wasn't in the nicest area of Manhattan, where Midtown was, but it was decent for a girl during the daylight. It was a place called The Brewer's Beans, a small coffee place a ways away from the school. It gave her enough time to walk there and cool down enough so she wasn't mean to the employees, but she wasn't calm enough to go home yet.

Michelle's family were the people that mattered the most to her out of anyone else. She hated to lash out on them, so if she was in a bad mood and she knew she could avoid it, she would try to cool down as much as possible before going back.

Within 45 minutes of walking, she reached the small brick building that was wedged between two other, much taller ones. She grinned and walled in, taking in the immediate sent of strong-brewed coffee, pumpkin, and old books. She smiled slightly at it, the walls lined with rustic shelves that held plenty of books for customers to read if they wished. She hand reached up and allowed her fingers to dance across the spines of each book, before pulling a classic off of the shelf with ease.

"Usual, Michelle?"

The voice found Michelle and she looked up, grinning when she saw the young boy at the cashier. His ginger hair was tousled and grey eyes cold, as was his pale skin. He was maybe 14 and his mother owned the place, giving him an immediate job.