Peter Parker Imagines

Why Don't You Bring The Girl Next Door To Homecoming? (2)

Heartbreak was an understatement. This was a friendship that was now broken, a friendship that lasted thirteen years, gone out of the window like that.

Your heart aching was an understatement. It felt as if your heart was being ripped out of your chest and squeezed, then thrown to the floor and stepped on. Because this wasn't just some random person who you've known for ten minutes. This was Peter Parker.

When half an hour rolled by and you still didn't come out of the school bathroom, Michelle took it upon herself to go and check up on you. She told Ned to hold her drink then cautiously walked over to the hallway then girls bathroom, not knowing exactly how to approach the situation.

When she opened the door, she thought no one was in there. It was void of any noise whatsoever. But when she ducked her head to see if there were feet, the biggest stall had your glittering black high heels.

"(Y/N)," she called, knocking on the door. "Come on, open up." Only a moment went by before she saw your face. Tears stained through your foundation and makeup, and it did not look very flattering. Your hair was loose and around your shoulders, but knotted and frizzy. The only thing that seemed to be still intact was your midnight blue dress.

"Oh god, (Y/N)." Michelle cooed and pulled you into her embrace. You gladly accepted since she never liked hugs. You rested your head on her shoulder and sobbed, gripping onto her like she was your lifeline.

"It's gonna be okay, (Y/N), he's just another stupid boy who doesn't deserve you." Michelle whispered, but you pulled back from her and weeped, "But he's not! He's Peter Parker, my best friend since kindergarten!"

The girl only brought you back against her and rubbed your back.

After twenty more minutes with Michelle, you decided that you wanted to go home. You plowed through the dance floor, shoving past grinding people and making your way to the front doors. Michelle hurried over to Ned, who was watching you stomp off with a glum look.

"Peter really messed up big time." Ned said, and Michelle only nodded, staring at the doors where you once were.

You sprinted home, kicking off your shoes and holding them. As you passed gawking people on the street who were wondering why a girl in a fancy dress was running, tears welled into your eyes again.

You got rejected by your best friend and neighbor, the one who made a move on you first by asking you to homecoming. He rejected you. He was there for a little while and decided you were boring and just flat out rejected you, or so you thought.

You ran into your apartment building and flew up the stairs and to your apartment. You didn't dare spare a glance at the door across from yours. You shoved the key into the lock and went in, letting the second round of tears finally fall.

You mentally thanked that no one was home as you made your way to your bedroom and locked it. You ripped through your beauty table, yanking out the makeup wipes. You wiped off your makeup and took your dress off, throwing it harshly into the corner of the room. You took out every single bobby pin that was laced in your hair, which was nearly fifty.

After changing into comfortable clothes, you collapsed onto your bed and cried even harder then before.

+

Peter sprinted down street after street to the school. It had recently rained, and he was nearly slipping with every step. He couldn't help but look back every two seconds to make sure that Vulture wasn't after him and kept on going.

Please don't let me be too late, please let her still be there. Please.

Peers were filing out the main doors as Peter ran up the stairs two at a time to them. He busted in and scanned for your face. The first people who caught his eye were Ned and Michelle, who were badly dancing since practically everyone was gone.

The young boy ran up to them, slowing down in disappointment. The duo stopped dancing and turned to him sadly.

"Where is she?" He demanded, putting back on the bow tie on his neck.

"She went home, man." Ned said, clapping his shoulder. Peter's face paled as he whimpered no. Without letting them talk or bash him again, he turned around and zipped out of the gymnasium and to the wet streets.

Peter ran and ran for you, hoping to God that you would forgive him, because he had absolutely no idea what he would do without you. I can't lose her, I can't lose her, I'm nothing without her.

When he saw the apartment building coming into view, he ran impossibly faster, sensing a new feeling of urgency. I need to get to her, I can't lose her, I won't.

He threw the door open and ran up the stairs and down the hallway, stopping at your number. He knocked on it loudly a few times. When he didn't hear you shuffling to open the door, he knocked louder and yelled, "(Y/N)! Please open the door!"

Two minutes later, you still didn't answer. "I'm getting the key!" He yelled to your door, then ran into his, ripping the door open and running to his bedroom and past Aunt May.

"Hey, sweetie. Is everything okay?" She asked anxiously, looking at her frantic nephew. He grabbed the spare key from his dresser and ran back out.

"Yeah, (Y/N) just got locked out. I'll be at her place for a while." He easily lied while closing the door. He shoved the key into the lock and kicked it open, instantly going to your room.

His hand reached for the doorknob and turned it, but it didn't. It was locked. "(Y/N), please!" He yelled urgently, anxiety flooding his veins.

His spidey senses were going off like crazy, and he knew for a fact that you never held a grudge like this. He instantly thought to every horrible thing that could've happened as he pounded on your bedroom door. Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is wrong!

Peter decided that if he didn't do something, his spidey senses were going to drive him to insanity, so he took a few steps back from the door.

"Sorry, (Y/N)'s door." He whispered under his breath, then ran for it. His shoulder collided with the wood and broke it and the lock. It swung open from the momentum and sent him sprawling to your cushiony rug.

He quickly recovered and scrambled up, looking around your small room. You were absolutely nowhere to be seen. He ran to your bed and lifted up the blue duvet to only see your black sheets underneath.

Peter scanned the entire room for you, and noticed something incredibly odd. You had two windows in your room, but you only ever opened the one closest to your bed because the other did not have a screen.

The window without the screen was as far open as it could be, and it only confirmed his suspicions that something was wrong. He looked over to your desk, and saw a small piece of paper in the middle of it. You always kept your desk neat, a hair was never out of place.

He scurried over to it and picked up the paper.

THE VULTURE