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-Gwen Stacy-
Peter didn't come back right away. Every once in a while I'd check my phone to see the time. The night was nearly over.
I'm not saying that I regret coming. Harry knows about what happened just now but he hasn't hesitated to help me have fun tonight. He's pulled me out on the dance floor countless times not allowing me to leave until I complain about my feet hurting.
I literally have blisters.
Harry is quite the dancer if I do say so myself. He's helped ease my mind from my situation with Peter which I appreciate, but I'm still holding on to Peter's word.
He has to come back.
He promised.
He had my cellphone number which we exchanged when we were working on a chem project, so I don't see a reason why he wouldn't text me if he didn't plan on coming back. I convince myself that Peter's not like that.
Hours passed and still no sign of him.
"Come on Gwen." Harry puts out his hand as he stands before me. I'm sitting in the corner of the mostly empty room. "Let me take you home."
The dance is over. Everyone's already outside or leaving. It's past 11:00 PM. The DJ and his crew are packing up their stuff and the chairs are being put up.
I let out a breath of disappointment and eventually give up. Peter's not coming back. I want to stick around longing in hope that he'll return, but I don't. I let Harry lead me to his car and we drive off. We drive in silence. Driving away from the night. Driving away from the thoughts. Did I drive him away?
********
Mom stayed up waiting for me. Dad was fast asleep. My three brothers were quieter than ever.
Given the fact that it was late.
Dread filled within me. Harry had volunteered to walk me upstairs but I wouldn't let him. My bare feet dragged on the hardwood floor. My heels in one hand. My clutch in the other. My phone was on ringer, yet not a single message or call appears on the blank screen. I toss it onto my bed. I drop my shoes on the floor beside it not bothering to put them away. I'll clean up tomorrow.
The thing no one talks about after homecoming or big events like that when you dress up is the coming home part. The one that follows when you're alone on your bedroom and you realize the day is over. You notice your clothes are wrinkly and your face is oily and sweaty. Your hair is frizzy and your feet ache from the dress shoes.
