Spider-Man Imagines I

Not That Girl (Part One) | Peter Parker [TH]

You weren't as prepared for September as you thought you were. You tried to convince yourself that the season of homecoming was bearable, but you were just kidding yourself.

As soon as September first hit, kids everywhere were forming elaborate proposals. You saw it in the halls, library, and classrooms, before school, after school, and all over social media. You couldn't get away from it.

You were walking the halls with Ned, who you had most of the same classes with. Ned was easily your best friend, so when you started to roll your eyes at the sight of homecoming posters popping up on walls, he noticed.

"What did that poster ever do to you?" Ned asked jokingly.

You gave him a look and then forced a smile. He laughed shortly and nudged you, his eyebrows pulling together.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You nodded. "Just annoyed," you said.

"About..." he pressed.

"Homecoming," you said.

"Ah. Yeah, it's lame," he replied. "But you're going, right? To homecoming?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Are you?"

"I did last year."

"Yeah, but-"

"Hey, Ned! ___!" Peter shouted as he walked out of a classroom. He broke out into a run to catch up. He came to a stop next to you and grinned breathlessly. "Hey guys."

"Hey, Pete," Ned said.

"What'cha-" He stopped, raising his eyebrows at the poster. "Wow. Homecoming already." He hooked his thumbs on the straps of his backpack and leaned his head back.

"Yeah," Ned said, "and ___ isn't even going."

"What!"

"I didn't say that," you said. "It's just-"

"It's an important high school experience!" Peter insisted, even though he often told you that he was so far above high school and that it wouldn't matter after graduation. "You can't miss it!"

"Well-"

"And we'll be there!" Ned added.

"Yeah," Peter chirped.

"But-"

"And MJ, probably," Peter said. Ned nodded. "And what if someone asks you?"

You laughed dryly before you could stop yourself. The idea of you being the one getting handed a bouquet of flowers or a giant poster that read HOMECOMING WOULD BE LIT IF YOU CAME WITH ME! was ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous.

"What?" Peter asked.

"No one is going to ask me," you said.

He huffed. "Um, why not?"

"Because-" You cut yourself off as a squeal sounded from one end of the hallway.

All three heads of the friends turned and they saw Flash Thompson hand a stuffed pink bear to a girl that you didn't know. She nodded and laughed, wrapping thin arms around his neck, lifting her feet off the ground. He spun her around and kissed her on the mouth. By the look of the crowd, it was clear that he had just asked her to homecoming, and that she had said yes.

"I didn't know Flash had a girlfriend," Ned said.

"Me neither," Peter replied.

You let your gaze drop from the scene.

You didn't like Flash by any means. He often entertained himself by being mean to you and your best friends specifically, and he was just all around annoying.

But the thought of a boy liking you, thinking you were beautiful, seeing the good in you and picking you out above all others... you longed for it.

You weren't necessarily a tomboy, but you weren't close to being very girly either. You wore skirts sometimes, but often paired them with graphic t-shirts of super heroes and Star Wars. Your locker was covered in pictures of you and Peter and Ned, and none of them were serious pictures. In all of them, you were doing weird faces, because the memory was worth more than the looks. Your hair was hardly touched in the morning and the amount of makeup you put on depended on your mood.

You just didn't reach Midtown High's definition of beautiful. Beauty standards were stupid, you often reminded yourself, because all girls were pretty. But still, you found yourself daydreaming of being pretty enough to be asked.

And in your daydream, the hand that took yours and the boy that held the poster that had the question on it was Peter.

Peter, who could never like you because you were a friend.

Peter, who came to you for girl advice when he wanted to ask out Liz.

Peter, who had seen every side of you - every embarrassing moment, every tear, every fit of anger.

Peter - who was so out of your league that it hurt.

"Hey, ___," Peter said, shoving you gently. "What were you saying before?"

"Uh," you said.

"Why won't anyone ask you to homecoming?"

You scratched the top of your arm and cringed, regretting ever saying that now that you were looking up into Peter's big, soft brown eyes, genuine confusion in them, like he couldn't understand why you would say that. "Um- well. I am... uh, me. And girls like me..."

"Girls like you?" Ned and Peter said at the same time, and your eyes shifted to the scene that was still unfolding in front of you.

Flash had his arm hooked around the girl's waist, her lips turned upward into a sweet smile. And Flash was looking at her like she was the only face left in the world.

And you-

You were alone and invisible and no one saw you like that.

"I'm not that girl, Peter."

"___," Ned began, and Peter echoed it. And their voices filled your heart with dread because they sounded like they were pitying you.

You were afraid you were going to do something stupid like cry, so you forced a pained smile and started to back away.

"I-I have to go, so," you said. "I'll see you guys later."

"___, wait!" Peter called out, stepping forward as you turned around.

"I really have to go!" you yelled, picking up your pace.

Peter frowned. Ned looked at you sadly.

"I didn't know she was like that," Ned said. "All... romantic and stuff."

"Me neither," Peter admitted, his shoulders slumping. He looked at your head of messy hair disappear in the crowd, a growing pit of concern forming in his gut. "Ned," he said, "I need you to help me out with something."