One Dance (Peter Parker x Reader)

2.

Present-Day (One Year After SM: Hoco)

A whole year.

Almost a whole year had passed since your first homecoming.

And you still didn't have a date.

You shut your locker. You kept your head down. Everyone knew who you were. Y/n Stark.

And with that name came lots of attention, good and bad.

You weren't like your adoptive father. Sure, you were smart, but you were klutz. You didn't have a lot of confidence, either. Most of it was faked.

It was weird. A lot of your friends would always be so nice to you, but you always felt like you annoyed them. Like your presence was the least important thing to them, and you only made life worse for them.

"Y/n. Y/n!" Your friend Sam snapped her fingers in front of your face.

"S-sorry." You looked at her. "What were you saying?"

She sighed. "Something wrong with you? You've been distant and I feel like you don't want to be around us."

It feels like the exact opposite, actually.

"I'm fine. Just stressed lately."

"It's only the beginning of the year," she laughed. "Anyways, I was asking if you had a date for homecoming. Becca has a date and if you have one too I'm going to be all alone."

You looked at her. "Nobody wants to go to homecoming with me."

She scoffed at you, then turned back to her locker. She was really slow at getting her books.

"How do you even know that? I've heard that at least three guys want to ask you," she said, pulling a book from the bottom.

"Who'd you hear that from? Allie? You know she makes stuff up like that all the time to make me feel better," you said, sighing. You didn't believe anything good about yourself anymore. It was hopeless.

"I'm going to be late to AP Chem," you said, noting that the hallway was almost empty. Only seconds until the bell rang.

"Leave me," said Sam. "It'll be a couple minutes 'til I find my English book.

"See you at lunch," you said, rushing down the hall to your class.

You were later than usual to class, so the only seat left was by the window near the front.

You hurried over and realized that a few kids were still missing. You didn't want to take anyone's seat, so you looked to the seat behind you.

A boy with wavy brown hair was looking down at his book. You gathered the courage to ask, "Excuse me? Is this seat taken?"

He looked up, slightly surprised. You realized he was pretty cute.

Stop it, you told yourself. He's probably one of those boys who laughed at you last week.

His face was slightly pink as his eyes met yours. They were a soft brown. Warm and familiar, like cinnamon. You felt like you knew him.

"N-no. It's not taken."

"Thanks," you said.

Why did you thank him. All he did was say 'it's not taken.' You're so awkward.

You were snapped out of your self-deprecating thoughts by the bell. As soon as it ended, the boy behind you spoke up.

"I'm P-Peter, by the way. I went to homecoming, with Liz? I t-thought you might remember me?"