TROUBLE! ━ TASM.

eighteen.

The next couple of weeks were horrendous.

Violet forgot how to take care of herself. She only showered when her hair got so greasy it stayed slicked down to her head, and she forgot to eat a full meal until her head was sipping. It wasn't on purpose, though. She had been busy distracting herself. Working on college essays to apply to back-up schools in case Oxford with Gwen didn't work out, joining Gwen at work and shadowing her while everyone was distracted with the declining health of Norman Osborn, and helping her mother out around the house. Spending her free time brushing through different bodegas and small shops, shoving things in her pockets.

Anything she could do to not think of Peter, who seemed to slide into every thought she had, every memory she remembered, and every magazine and online article she read. Pictures of him, painted with words of both hero and villain, were everywhere, everybody holding different opinions about the red-and-blue vigilante that patrolled the streets at night. It pained her every time she read it, even more when she saw the negative connotations attached to his name.

Right now, she stood inside of the busy lab of Oscorp Industries, watching aimlessly with dark, tired eyes as Gwen worked on whatever she had been assigned. Violet usually stayed silent while Gwen worked, more so enjoying the company than wanting to participate in whatever boring thing the girl was up to. Her best friend only brought her here so she didn't weep in bed, anyways.

"Violet. Violet? Violet!"

She snapped out of her trance, blinking away her daze before looking at her best friend. "Huh? Sorry. Yeah?"

The blonde's eyes were wide, and a large grin pulled at her lips. Her face was a complete parallel to Violet's look, so much that it was comical if you looked at it from afar. "Your phone. Watch it. Watch your phone, Vi!"

Confusion painted it's way over Violet's face, and she pulled out her phone, the screen dim with no texts or calls. Suddenly, it let out a chime, and a funky tune followed as her phone lit up with a call. Nervously, she answered. "Hello?"

"Is this Violet Flynn?"

"Yes, this is her. Who's calling?"

"I'm calling from the Oxford Scholars Program. We have some exciting news!"

And then the lady, with a charming British accent, kept babbling on, but Violet only caught a few words, too in a daze. She just caught a few words about a set of interviews that determined whether or not she'd be accepted into Oxford. After she said 'thank you' probably eighty times and hung up, she turned to Gwen. And then proceeded to let out the girliest squeal she had ever mustered in her life.

"Oh my God, I got an interview with Oxford. How did you know? Are you a psychic or something?" Suddenly, she felt very chatty, holding onto Gwen's arms as if her life depended on it, her own face now a replica of her best friend's joyous one.

Gwen laughed. "Well, when you were in your dream state, I got a call, too. I just kept it under wraps so that you could feel your own pride and not just proud of me, you know?" She smiled, tilting her head ever-so-slightly as she chuckled again.

In a spurt of happiness, she threw her arms around the girl. "Oh, Gwen. You're my best friend, you know that? So good." She gave her a squeeze before pulling back, her face suddenly becoming a shadow of slight hurt. "Is it bad that the only thing I want to do is call Peter? Which is stupid, because he's the one that called off everything, I know, but he wanted nothing but me to even get a chance to get into Oxford."

The girl in front of her smiled at her sadly before grabbing Violet's phone out of her lap, holding it out to her. "Call him. Even if it has a bad outcome, call him. Get that little urge out of the way."