Senioritis

'930'

The night after the Thanksgiving dinner was probably the worst night of sleep Peter had ever had. Every time he shut his eyes, he pictured MJ, in her high ponytail and red lips, screaming at him. He replayed all the possible scenarios of them kissing on that couch in his head.

I shouldn't have touched her Peter thought.

He figured that maybe if he hadn't kissed her back, maybe if he had suggested that they just chill and watch a movie, then she wouldn't have panicked and he wouldn't have gotten angry.

He had an idea of what might have happened to MJ that night at Liz's party, but he didn't want to believe it, nor could he come to terms with who might have been involved, and why MJ had written what she wrote in her diary.

Was he invading her privacy for doing that? Should he have stolen that piece of paper that led him closer to any answers that he may have been looking for?

Either way, he knew he had a responsibility and he knew he had to do it for MJ.

The next morning, before school, Peter grabbed a blank notebook lying on his desk and copied MJ's words verbatim onto it. He thought that if he started documenting a chain of findings, then it would lead him closer to the truth.

On that same day, as Peter walked into school, he knew that he could forget about his reputation, and sitting at the senior table. Not only had he ended things with Maya, but he'd punched Tyler in the face.

The same people that usually looked up at him and gave him welcoming smiles just kind of turned their heads passive-aggressively.

At this point, Peter didn't care. He didn't care what they thought of him, he didn't care who he sat with at lunch, he didn't care how he was going to do in his Physics mid-term and he didn't care about how many girls were attracted to him.

In the hallway, he noticed Ned talking to a girl he knew from his Calculus class and breathed a sigh of relief.

With all the will left in his soul, he approached them both and tapped Ned on the shoulder. Ned turned round to look at Peter menacingly, and Peter realized at that moment that they hadn't spoken in like a month.

"Ned." Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I need...to talk to you...alone."

Ned rolled his eyes and sighed heavily before gesturing to the girl beside him that he would 'see her later'. He folded his arms and stared right into Peter's eyes.

"You know, Peter." he began, his voice quiet and embedded with anger. "You can't just start talking to me because you're no longer popular or whatever."

Peter looked at Ned pleadingly.

"I-" Peter stammered. "Ned...I'm so sorry. I know I apologized before...but this time...I mean it. I've been acting like a total douche, and I'm a horrible person."

Ned wasn't even looking at Peter at this point. He was glancing aimlessly at people passing down the hallway.

"Ned." Peter pleaded. "Just talk to me...please."

He didn't know why there were tears stinging at the back of his eyes. He didn't know why he felt the need to be emotional and cry about everything these days.

Ned looked back at Peter and frowned.
"If you have something to explain-" Ned started.

"I do." I have a lot of things to explain." Peter replied.

Peter looked all around him and then lowered his voice.

"Not here." he whispered, grabbing Ned's shoulder and steering him towards the janitor's closet, before letting them both in and locking the door behind them.