Hypothesis Contrary to Fact

settle down

Molly hadn't gotten a good nights' sleep. It hadn't been the first time this had happened; the stress of school and tests and projects had kept her up before. And it certainly wasn't going to be the last. But never had she tossed and turned over someone like Peter. Or just over someone's well-being for that matter.

Every time she tried to close her eyes to try and drift off into her subconscious, her brain would immediately remind her of the results of her experiments. That the spider was obviously tested on before finding its way into Peter's pencil sharpener. That she didn't know the true effects of the testing. That if it had bit him, it could end badly. In death even. And weirdly, strangely, for some reason, her brain twisted it so that she was guilty.

Not like she had killed him. The spider had. She just didn't believe him. If she had, if she had given him a second to talk and explain - and had actually listened, then maybe she could've figured something out sooner. Maybe he wouldn't be dead.

She wasn't even sure he was dead. It could just be her guilt thinking of the worst possible outcomes in order to cause her anxiety. Something stupid, but a good self-imposed punishment. The only way to make sure Peter was still alive was to wait until school the next day. Sure, she could text him; she did have his number (thanks to Liz's stupid team building exercises), but that could only get her so far. Anyone could text back. If she saw him in person, he was alive. And alive meant he was fine. She had no reason to be guilty about her actions - or lack thereof. She could wipe her hands clean of the whole situation and walk away. None the wiser.

All she needed to do was spot him. That's it. It should've been easy considering he was a literal giant. Though really, that didn't mean much when everyone seemed to tower over Molly. As she walked into school with Liz and her friends, she kept a sharp eye out for the other teen. He usually wore the same rotating uniform of a sweater over a button up shirt or an open flannel over a graphic tee with some sort of punny science joke. They always made her roll her eyes.

If she couldn't find him on his own, she could use Ned as an association. The two were almost always joined at the hip. They had become friends in the beginning of the year during one of the first decathlon practices, then stuck together ever since. Made sense considering they were into the same stuff. But it seemed so easy for them to click. It was never that easy for Molly.

Just like it wasn't easy to find Peter. God, what was with the universe these days? Making things unnecessarily harder for her. Usually she saw Peter like six times before homeroom started. Either in the hallways, outside the school walking across the field from the train station, or even in the cafeteria where he sometimes got breakfast. That day, she hadn't seen him once. Her brain was focused on seeing him, meaning he should be easier to pick out of the crowd since she was thinking about him. Or maybe since she was thinking about him, her brain was too focused to actually see him. Sometimes she really hated how the brain worked. Especially hers.

With no other option than to wait until homeroom, she settled into her seat and pretended not to watch the door as each of her classmates walked into the room. Each time she heard someone, she glanced up from her textbook, then immediately looked down when she saw it wasn't Peter. It was excruciating. Kept her stomach rolling with nerves and guilt. She hated it.

At the sound of the second bell, Peter finally slid into the room - excuses tripping over themselves as they tried to get out of his mouth at rapid fire speed. It was the train, the train was late, so he was late, and he was a little out of breath from running all the way to the classroom. The teacher didn't care. Why would he? It was homeroom. Not an actual class. The teacher just needed to know Peter was there. And he was. He was.