The Boy Down the Hall - A Peter Parker Fanfiction

Part 19

You woke up early Monday morning, making sure all your bags were packed. You put your decathlon jacket over a sweater and skirt. You were honestly still surprised that the school allowed you to go, having started so late in the training.

Your mum drops you off out the front of the school, the bus already parked, waiting. You grab your bags from the boot of the car, hugging your mum. 

"I'll be back tomorrow night" you say, as she gives you a kiss on the head. 

You walk over to the group gathering around Mr Harrington. You stand next to Liz, Cindy and Flash. 

"Hey y/n, how'd your date with Peter go?" Liz says to you, a smile plastered on her face.

 You begin to tell them all about your evening, about what you talked about, and your kiss. Peter suddenly comes running up to the group, making you stop your story mid sentence. 

"I'm here to go to decathlon." He announces.

He hear Flash groan behind you, "as if you can just come back last minute and be welcomed back by everybody." 

Mr Harrington steps off the bus, from talking with the driver, "Hey Peter welcome back." He says, ticking another name off his list.

You started off the bus trip sitting next to Cindy, watching Liz shout questions to the rest of the class. Peter stood up from his seat, answering a phone call, followed by Ned. You wondered what they were up to but decided to leave it alone. A little while after they returned, Ned asked to swap seats with you. "Subtle" you hear Cindy whisper as you stand up, you laugh before taking the window seat on the other side of Peter. You turned your back away from the window, facing Peter, you began talking and eventually you found yourself ignoring Liz's questions all together.

You stretch your legs out, resting them on Peters lap. He smiles at you, not caring. You decide to ask him the question which had been weighing on your mind. 

"What was the phone call about?"

"What phone call?" Peter says quickly, a small flash of panic on his face. 

"The one you just had," you say, gesturing towards the back of the bus. 

"Oh that one," Peter says, his hand rising to rub the back of his neck again, "that was nothing important, May just wanted to know what time we'd be getting to Washington." 

"Okay," you say smiling at him. 

But part of you, deep down, knew that that was a lie. What was Peter hiding from you? From everyone?