Staying up until 3 AM on a school night was never a good idea. However, after the new season of Stranger Things had just been released onto Netflix, your brain suddenly disregarded this well-known fact and decided that it would be a good idea to binge all the episodes in a single night. You'd certainly enjoyed the new season, but you weren't enjoying the after effects of only getting three hours of sleep.
That was why when you'd stumbled onto the train the following morning, hair tied up in the messiest bun it'd ever been in, it took all of your willpower not to just fall asleep standing there holding onto the rail. It was just your luck that there were no open seats and you had been forced to stand up, cramming yourself in between other commuters and students and clutching onto the metal pole with one hand. You almost pulled out your phone to lazily scroll through social media, but thought better of it when the train rocked slightly and you almost went flying down the aisle.
Note to self: No matter how much Nancy Wheeler is your "badass queen", there was no way you were going to function getting through a whole seven hour school day like this.
For heaven's sake, even the extra-large, extra-hot coffee you'd downed before you left your apartment wasn't even working. This was bad. And it could only get worse.
Your stop finally approached, and as the moving monorail slowly came to a stop you deemed it safe to use your cell phone to send a quick text to MJ.
Dude, I think I'm gonna pass out. How tf am I going to get through Chem? Oh god, MJ, this is gonna be a disaster.
You waited for a response, but were forced to lock your phone as people all around you began to get off and on the train. The chilly autumn air hit you harshly in the face as you stepped off, moving with the pace of the crowd. Luckily, the walk to Midtown from the train station wasn't far.
Tucking your hands into the pockets of your army green jacket, you walked cautiously, so as to not completely fall forwards on your face. By the time you made it to the front campus of Midtown, the migraine inhabiting your head had already gotten what felt like ten times worse.
The school was alive with the buzz of students, or as alive as a building full of teenagers could be in the early hours of a Monday morning. Adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulder, you quickly spotted your friend perched on a bench just outside the front doors.
You picked up your pace only slightly, silently making your way over to greet the brunette, who's curly mop of hair was turned downwards, nose tucked in a thick novel. "MJ!" You breathed, the breeze sending a short chill down your spine.
She looked up at you, a scowl already adorning her features before she realized that it was you speaking to her. Her facial expression quickly changed into a pitiful smile. "Oh my god, Y/N, you look kind of dead."
You managed out a chuckle, even though you knew she was completely right. A side effect of getting little to no sleep is not being in the right state of mind to actually pick out a decent outfit. That morning, in the midst of your exhausted haze, you'd thrown on a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a gray long-sleeved pullover, which you'd paired with your green jacket and black vans. The outfit could have been worse, but you hadn't even bothered trying with your hair, instead leaving it in the messy bun you slept in.
So yeah, Michelle wasn't too far off in saying that you looked kind of dead.
"Never mind that. It was all worth it to see more of the love of my life kicking some supernatural butt." Grinning, you grabbed your friend by the wrist and pulled her to make her stand up.
MJ rolled her brown eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we all know about your insane girl crush."
You returned the scowl she had given you before, then began walking, though you weren't denying her accusation. Could you really even argue with that? Nope. The answer was no.
The taller girl fell into step next to you, and you chatted about some of your shared classes before you finally entered through the front doors of Midtown. It was always a struggle to maneuver through the crowds in the hallways, but after three years of attending the school you'd learned to manage it.
Your first class of the day was AP English, which fortunately you shared with your best friend. After a brief stop at your lockers, you headed towards the classroom together. The two of you made it through the door just as the second bell clanged throughout the halls, making you both cringe slightly and rush to sit down.
The class dragged on rather slowly, but you were thankful that it was a fairly easy lesson. If you day had started with something like Physics, you had no idea how you would've managed to even keep your eyes open for the whole hour long period.
When the class was finally over, you packed up your things and headed out of the room. You were going to Chemistry and MJ was headed to Algebra, but both of the rooms were in the same wing of the school, so you could walk together. You were almost at the door to the lab when you stopped dead in your tracks. Oh no. No, no, no.
"MJ, wait." Tugging on the sleeve of her sweatshirt, you pulled her over towards you, your eyes wide as saucers.
She raised her eyebrows. "What is it?"
"My Chem folder! It's sitting on my kitchen counter. Oh my god, MJ, oh my god. What if the teacher does one of those note checks? Holy shit. I'm screwed. Goodbye, A minus average. Rest in peace." Shoving your flushed face in your hands, you pulled at the roots of your hair that had begun to fall out of the bun it was previously in.
The brunette sighed in response, shaking her head at you. She opened her mouth to say something before closing it abruptly, peeking her head into the doorway of the classroom and looking back at you with a wry smirk. "Hey, hey, relax. She might not check, and even if she does, you do have the smartest kid in our grade as your lab partner, need I remind you-"
Peter. It was your turn to peer into the lab, your eyes scanning over the rows of tables until they landed on the one you shared. All you could see from this angle was the back of his head, soft brown curls smushed down by the silly goggles he'd already adorned. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the sight, becoming temporarily distracted and losing your train of thought.
"-Just go in there. You don't want to be late." MJ continued, shoving you lightly by the shoulder and turning to walk in the other direction. So much for support.
With that, you willed your feet to carry you into the brightly-lit lab room bustling with students. Taking a deep breath, you passed the couple of rows in the back of the room, bumping into the corners haphazardly and letting out a small groan. The lack of sleep was still affecting you greatly, even though it was already almost ten in the morning.
You reached your usual table with a sigh, looking over and seeing Peter still with his head ducked down into the side drawer. Almost not even wanting to bother him, you gingerly reached over and tapped him on the shoulder.
Your hand lingered there for just a moment too long. Since when was he so muscular, holy crap-
"O-oh, Y/N!" Peter's voice snapped you out of your momentary daze, your hand on his shoulder quickly going back by your side to grab the straps of your backpack.
A breath hitched in your throat, suddenly awkwardness swept over you like a thick blanket and you couldn't seem to even form words. Tired eyes focusing on the ends of your partner's curly hair, curling around his ears in small tufts of golden brown, realization settled in.
You looked like you'd just rolled out of bed. Well, because technically you did, but still.
Suddenly all you wanted to do was disintegrate into a puddle of nothingness. Not only were you completely exhausted, you looked like an utter wreck and were now acting like a blubbering idiot in front of your cute lab partner. Fantastic.
Nervously, you placed your bag down on the floor, settling into the chair to the right of Peter's. You chewed on your bottom lip out of anxiety, drumming your fingers on the wooden tabletop.
The bell rang again, sending the classroom that was previously bustling with conversation hushed into silence at the sight of your teacher entering through the door. Great, now even if you wanted to apologize to Peter for acting so weird, you couldn't.
The teacher made her way to the front of the room, coffee cup in hand. She put her stack of papers down on her desk before promptly launching into a lecture about the activity you'd be doing that day. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Peter rush to remove his goggles and stop fiddling with whatever he was making in the drawer.
You were used to these long instructional talks, however, this one seemed to be droning on an excessively lengthy amount of time. There was no way you'd get to complete a whole lab with only nearly half of the class period left. Hey, at least you were sure that there wouldn't be a notes check that day. At least that relieved some of your stress.
Slowly but surely, you could subconsciously feel yourself drift off, the hand supporting your head atop the table providing a makeshift pillow. Unrested eyes fluttering shut easily, before you could stop it you were out like a light.
A nudge at your side. Nothing.
A tap at your foot. Nope.
From across the table, Peter's mind and heart were racing. The teacher would look over here at any second, and you were not-so-subtly snoozing out in the middle of class.
He didn't know any other way to get you to wake up; and he had to get you awake, although you were blatantly exhausted, your teacher would certainly give you detention if she caught you.
Wiping his hands on his jeans, Peter willed his heart to stop beating so fast. It didn't listen. The nervous boy reached under the table, taking the hand that wasn't holding your head up and - he held his breath - took it in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
The unfamiliar contact caused your eyes to fly open in surprise, while Peter let out a deep breath from beside you. He quickly removed his hand from yours (as much as he didn't want to), a blush forming on his freckled cheeks. You were about to turn to him, confused, but were cut off.
"Y/N? Do you know the answer?"
Your eyebrows raised in shock. Looking up to the front of the room, you met the gaze of your unamused professor.
Next to you, your partner hurriedly scribbled out something in the margin of his notebook before pushing it over towards your line of vision. Trying to discreetly look down, you read the words on the page with a shaky voice. "U-um. Yes? I mean, um, you would need to use Raoult's Law."
Your teacher nodded suspiciously,"Yes, that's correct." before focusing her attention on the white board behind her. When you sensed that she was no longer looking in your direction, you turned to Peter.
"Holy crap, thank you so much!" You whispered.
Peter shrugged, clicking his pen repeatedly, a nervous habit he couldn't seem to kick. "O-of course. I mean, it's not like you wouldn't do the same for me, wait, uh, I didn't mean that you-" His cheeks darkened in color, if that was even possible.
You bit down on your lip in order to try and hide a smile. God, he was so cute. And he held your hand.
He held your hand.
It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from how fast it was racing. Did this mean-
Just then, the bell rang. The fucking bell rang. As students around you packed up their belongings and headed out, the two of you seemed glued down to your chairs. Both of you wanted to say something, anything, but neither of you could find the right words.
As more people funneled out, you decided it was now or never. You suddenly forgot about your disheveled hair and the fact that yesterday's mascara was still kind of smudged under your eyes.
"Do you-"
"We should-"
You both blurted out at the same time, looking over at each other with eyes as wide as saucers. Your hand flew over your mouth, trying to conceal laughter, but when you saw Peter doing the same you decided to just let it go. Giggling like a toddler at your total awkwardness, your eyes met his.
You stopped laughing. "Um,"
"Uh, hey, you know what? Here." reaching over to Peter's spiral notebook that was still placed on top of the table, you scribbled something in the margin, similarly to how he'd done just minutes before when he totally saved your ass.
Except what you wrote wasn't some Chemistry law. It was your phone number.
If he thought he was stuck before, Peter was really frozen in his seat now. He watched as you slid the notebook over to him with a shy smile, before picking up your backpack and walking out the door.
From the doorframe, you turned to meet his gaze one more time, grinning before heading to your next class.
Peter clutched the notebook in his arms, close to his chest, where he could still feel his heart racing.
"Parker, get out of here!" The teacher demanded, causing the blushing boy to practically jump out of his chair and race out the door to find Ned and tell him everything.
