The Butterfly Effect: a Peter Parker Fan Fic

Part 8; Football God

What matters is precisely this; the unspoken at the edge of the spoken ~ Virginia Woolf

Come Chemistry class, I begin to feel more comfortable around Peter. When I place my books down at a bench in the back of the classroom, he immediately follows suit by dropping his next to me. I can't remember a time when someone wanted to sit next to me for the whole of the last year. This makes my insides bubble with delight.

Ms Truesdale enters the classroom and begins, "good afternoon, class. I have devised a seating plan most appropriate to your previous behaviors and grades." Her eyes squint through her glasses, "but as it appears, I won't have to make many changes."

Ms Truesdale is small and petite. A pair of black spectacles rest on the tip of her nose which gives me the urge to storm up to the front and shove them back to the top where it belongs. Her thin, auburn hair is tied back in a ponytail which compliments her hazel eyes.  

Peter and I exchange a satisfied look and turn back to face her once again.

She glances around the room and begins to order students around. Her eyes fall onto Peter. "Peter Parker," she beams, "what a pleasure to see you today."

The entire class swivel around to face Peter who begins to blush a dark shade of red. I cover my mouth with my hand to suppress bursting out loud with laughter. He notices this and mouths, shut up.

"Raven Garcia," Ms Truesdale says which makes me perk up. Her nose is pointed at the ceiling and her eyes shoot bullets, "how lovely to see you. I hope you won't be an interruption to the class."

It's Peter's turn to conceal his smirk with his hand. A large exhale escapes from my mouth and I calmly reply, "okay."

"You two would be an appropriate pairing in my opinion," she says, scratching at a spot on the back of her neck, "so just stay where you are."

The both of us nod. I see a boy towards the front of the class gesture towards me with his head to his friend who turns to face me. It's Nathaniel, or Nate as he prefers to be called, the captain of the football team. My lips press together and I pretend to be oblivious to their attitude towards me. Nate snorts and scrunches up his nose in disgust and despite me only looking from the corner of my eye, I swear I see him call me a freak.

I rest my elbow on the table and my cheek on my fist. The thought of Peter glancing at me every few seconds and Nate and whoever his friend is making fun of me at the front makes me feel uncomfortable. My thumbnail finds its way into my mouth and I pretend to find myself enraptured by a Science poster on the wall beside me.

"Raven," I hear someone whisper.

I groan quietly. "Raven, get up!" they say in a hushed voice.

My eyes flutter to pitch blackness but the familiar cool feeling of the bench reminds me of where I am. I casually pull myself up and adjust my hair, pulling it to one side. "Were you asleep?" Peter asks, a smile dancing on his lips.

"No," I scoff, "sleeping in class is for wusses."

"Sleeping in class is for wusses. I'll add that one to the list," he declares, scribbling it down on a piece of paper.

"That can't be considered my line! I've only said it once," I retort.

He shrugs, "you still said it."

My head turns around to check the clock behind me. There's five minutes until the final bell for the day goes. About time.

"Alright class, you will be dismissed soon. You won't have any homework today, except you, Ms Garcia. Since you missed out on work last week," the teacher says proudly, "I'm sure Peter can fill you up."