WILLOW , peter parker

04. hell's kitchen.

chapter four: hell's kitchen.
act one: gold rush.

Jamie shifted awkwardly on her feet in the foyer of her father's apartment, a stuffed duffel bag hanging off her shoulder and a jacket clutched in her arms. She felt out of place, despite the countless nights she had spent there. But those nights were limited, restricted to weekends or the odd holiday. Spending a week at her father's apartment was uncharted territory, and it was unmapped and intimidating.

"Nervous?" Matt asked. He glanced meaningfully at his daughter, wishing he could read the expressions on her face. But he felt the hesitation in her step. He knew she was tentative.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" Jamie joked lightly, making her way into the living room. Her bitter feelings from the past still dwindled, though she reminded herself to allow her father a chance to try.

"I guess not," Matt said with a light smile. "Well—you know where your room is...do you have plans for the weekend?"

"Yeah," Jamie replied, taking in the large windows that displayed the bright view of Hell's Kitchen. She almost wished she was blind, the brightly lit billboards from outside were harsh through the glass. Matt stood beside her not at all affected, his glasses reflecting the eccentric view. "I have to head to Oscorp to write a piece on a new experiment they're perusing."

"I thought you were a bench warmer at the Bugle," Matt said innocently, earning himself a glare from Jamie.

"Rude. And it's not my piece exactly," Jamie said hurriedly, feeling her cheeks heat from minor embarrassment. "One of the senior writers wants a 'fresh perspective' and is giving me a chance to voice my thoughts in her work."

"That's nice," Matt hummed. "Bench warmer."

Jamie clutched her bag tighter and called a stern good night out to her father before escaping to her small room. Instead of unpacking, Jamie tossed her bag and jacket onto the floor and collapsed onto her twin bed, the mattress squeaking in protest. Clutching a beloved stuffed lion from years ago, Jamie inhaled deeply and stared at the popcorn ceiling of her bedroom before her phone buzzed from her back pocket.

Unknown: Hey, I figured your number might be convenient to have considering the internship.

Unknown: Oh, it's Peter, by the way.

Unknown: Parker.

Jamie's heart began to pick up, the texts blurring as she stared at them intensely. All of a sudden, any texting etiquette she had acquired through her teenage years had vanished in a pitiful poof, leaving her dumbfounded and feeling rather stupid.

Fate seemed to be pushing her and Peter Parker together at an alarming rate, and Jamie wasn't sure how to welcome it. Peter wasn't bad company, but he was a danger to Jamie's common sense. Her logical reasoning seemed to melt in a puddle whenever he came near, leaving her flustered or irritable.

Dangerous.

Reluctantly sighing, Jamie flipped over onto her stomach and let her thumbs hover her keyboard before churning out the best reply her hazed brain could concoct.

Jamie: hey, makes sense. i'll add your contact. pure curiosity—how'd you get my number???

Peter: Lin gave it to me on Friday.

Jamie swore loudly, slamming her head down onto her pillow. She made a mental note to scream at Lin later. Murder wasn't completely off the table either.

Jamie: can't say i'm surprised honestly. sorry if she bombarded you.

Peter: No worries. Anyways, just wanted to let you know.

Jamie: i appreciate this from the very bottom of my heart, parker. like, you have no idea how much this means to me.

Peter: Ouch! Jamie Murdock once again displaying the very sarcastic bone in her body. (Also, is that proper grammar use?)

Jamie: it's instinct, really. (my grammar is just fine, thank you. texting is the exception)

"Whatcha doing?"

"Holy shit!"

The sudden materialization of Matt in Jamie's doorway had the girl jumping out of her skin. Her heart pounded in her ears as if he had caught her robbing the Met.

"Oohhh, you're doing something bad," Matt said with a grin. Jamie groaned into her pillows and wished her father could see her distress.

"Dad! I'm busy," Jamie said hastily. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"The door was open—wait. Are you texting a boy?"

"No," Jamie lied.

"Who is it? I may not be able to see but I'm not an idiot. Do I have to murder him? Is he a punk?" Matt interrogated.

"Oh my god, Dad. It's literally fine, we're just talking about school stuff and whatever. I'm literally not texting him anymore," Jamie defended quickly. She whipped up a short message to Peter and slammed her phone down. She had meant for it to sound aggressive, but the result was only a mere pillow smack.

Jamie: anyways it's late, so i've gotta go. night.

Peter: Sounds good. Night, Jamie.

"Whatever you say, Jamie," Matt said in a sing-song voice. He laughed as he finally started to leave Jamie and walk down the hall. "Say good night to your boyfriend for me."

"Good night dad," Jamie said forcibly, and she fought a smile.

With one final smile, Matt disappeared down the hall, leaving Jamie to herself again. She felt the weight of her phone in her hands, the open display of her texts to Peter feeling like fire against her fingertips. She rolled onto her back with a huff and flexed her thumbs, her phone dangling in her delicate grasp.

Fuck it.

Jamie: really quick—if you ever need to ask about the internship or anything, just text. i'm here.

Jamie instantly tossed her phone to the end of the bed as if it was a live grenade, afraid of the worst possible outcome. She didn't declare Parker to be the love of her life or her saving grace, but the extension was more than she'd ever expect from herself.

One thing was certain, Jamie Murdock was in trouble.

***

Peter Parker was known to be smart. Some might even be generous enough to use the term genius. But the text Jamie sent him had him overthinking his entire existence. He didn't get it. Well, he did. Sort of.

Everyone could see that Peter Parker had a crush on Jamie Murdock except for Jamie Murdock and Peter Parker. He just thought he was pretty. That's it.

Wrong.

He definitely did not think about how smart she was or her sarcastic side or how her hair looked so light in the sun or how she got more flustered when she was trying to keep her cool or how she really could not skateboard or how her coffee order was just a recipe for a heart attack.

Peter Parker would never think about those things. Keep up!