ENOUGH FOR YOU « PETER PARKER

3. the look

—THE LOOK

PETER PARKER never did take Juliette and Gwen up on their offer. He had, however, been forced to watch his beloved uncle gunned down on a sidewalk.

He also had to attend the man's funeral.

No one had seen Peter for days when the news broke, but today, Midtown High had been buzzing with his return. No one really had the nerve to approach him, especially considering how upset he looked. It was an unusual look on him and Juliette wished she could fix it, but not even she could reverse death.

Against Juliette's advisement, Gwen attempted to console the boy, but he pushed past the blonde as if she hadn't even approached him at all. Such blatant disregard for her friend wouldn't have gone over well had it been anyone else, but she understood him.

She had been him.

He was bleeding over a library book when Juliette spoke to him again. It'd been a few weeks since his return, and he was seated in the library, away from curious eyes. His hair was sticking straight into the air, as if he hadn't bothered to even pick up a comb, which she was sure he hadn't. He still wore his infamous green jacket over a dingy t-shirt and clean jeans. He was good at making the whole not trying thing work, but the bags beneath his eyes were an easy giveaway to his sleepless nights.

Juliette took the seat next to him at the otherwise empty table. "You're bleeding," she whispered to him, her curls filling the space between them as she leaned over. His eyes met hers and he tugged an earbud from his ear, humming in question. "I said you're bleeding."

His hand immediately went to a spot beneath the edge of his jaw, where a bit of blood had bloomed. Up close it was a long cut, but nothing serious or worrisome. He wiped at it, and it was gone, leaving what looked like an injury that was already healing. "Shaving," he explained almost sheepishly.

He was lying. She could see as much in his eyes, but she refrained from calling him out on it. She decided then that she wouldn't bring up his uncle or bring up that party.

She offered him a small smile glancing at his open book, her brows raising almost instantly. "You're reading about physics during lunch?"

A small smile touched his lips. "What's wrong with that? I— well, I enjoy physics."

"No one enjoys physics," she laughed. Her hand moved to play with the ring on her right hand, a nervous habit Gwen constantly called her out on.

He let out a silent gasp of mock disbelief. "Yes they do." She nodded, allowing him to have that one, despite her disbelief of its truth.

Juliette noticed his hands then, stained a bit with red paint at the fingertips. She gave them a pointed look. "You working on something?"

He glanced at his hands, before quickly folding his fingers beneath the book and away from her eyes. "Art project."

She nodded slowly. "Well aren't you a busy guy." The conversation fell a bit short. She sighed then, standing from her seat. "I guess I should let you get back to your reading then."

He watched her for a moment. "You didn't say sorry," he murmured. She could see the grief bleeding onto his face. Even now, he was trying to hide it, but it was so plainly there, that she easily knew what he was referring to.

Juliette hadn't said she was sorry for his loss, a conscious decision on her part. When her father had died, it was one of the last things she wanted to hear after a while. "I am," she began slowly, "but I kind of assumed that over the past few weeks you'd heard enough sorrys to last you a lifetime."