The REM Trials

Chapter 8

I rub my eyes and desperately try to pay attention to what Miss Harman is talking about, but apparently, Chemistry doesn't get easier when you're sleep deprived.

It's been two weeks since that MIT trip with Dad and twelve days since the Accords were made public. No one has really been sleeping well since it happened. Especially with the ultimatum looming over our us and the arguments about it. Everyone's taking sides, and I'm currently trapped in the middle.

I've been doing everything I can to not go supernova at the slightest thing. Like right now, when the bell rings. My muscles tense up, and eyes screw shut as I wait it out. I press my glasses close to my face to hope no one will notice the tears brimming in my eyes as I tremble from the strain.

"Lia, are—are you okay?" Peter asks when he notices me still leaning on my desk and offers me my cane. "Do you need me to take to the nurse? Or call you a ride home?"

"No, I'll—I'll be fine. I don't really want to go home yet." I tell him with a sigh and pretend to not notice him carrying my books. "I've been bouncing between my parents, and it's been a little more stressful than usual the past couple of days."

"How so? If you don't mind me asking that is." He says the last sentence as quickly as he can manage the words.

"It's nothing really. My dad is just having some trouble with—work stuff that has him away at a conference, and I hate going to my mum's because I'm either alone or just hiding out in my room to avoid talking to my step dad until she's back from work." I look towards Peter to see him already watching me with a confused expression. "Jim, my step-dad, and I haven't always been the best of pals. He wanted to have this perfect relationship where he got to play at my real dad, but I never let that happen. No matter how hard he and mum tried to let me think he was my dad, I never believed it.

"I mean, he's a blond with bright blue eyes, and my mum is a brunette with green eyes. So it was pretty obvious to me from an early age that one of them wasn't related to me. And since I have some of my mum's features, it wasn't hard to figure out the rest. Not to mention, he always bounces between treating me like a child and a lab rat, which really didn't help the relationship. When I finally met my dad, it all made sense. I mean, the resemblance was pretty clear right away, and then we just clicked after that. Jim's relationship with me only got worse after that."

"That's—it must have been hard." Peter mumbles as he stops outside the room for my next class, and I get the feeling he understands better than I know. "When did you get to meet your dad? I mean, your mom must have told you before too long, right?"

"I was seven when she first told me the smallest details about him. Then, when he was in London that next year, she let me meet him." I tell him with a shrug. "It's fine. I know him now, and that's what the important part is. 'Cause if I didn't, I'd have definitely gone crazy by now or even have moved here."

"Then I'm glad you have him. My reason is because if you didn't, then we wouldn't have become friends." A pattern of blotchy red climbs up his neck as he says the words, which makes me smile.

"It's one of my reasons too. I'm glad we met, Peter." In a moment of complete confidence, I wrap my arms around him in a hug, which Peter takes a moment to reciprocate. "I should probably let you get to class, huh?" I mumble into the collar of his sweatshirt.

"Um, y-yeah. I guess you should." Peter stutters, and I just let out a heavy breath.

"Unless," the syllable drags out as I smile against him, "you feel like living a little and ditching an hour of class with me? Very un-Peter Parker-ish, I know, but trust me when I say it will be fine."