Picking Up The Pieces

44. Supersuits Need Pockets

   I drummed my fingers against the small table as I waited for Peter to meet me in a coffee shop an equal distance from both our apartments. I had been to The Owlet a few times, most of those visits because I had to pick up a coffee at one in the morning for homework. After a busy and hectic week, I couldn't have been happier for a slow Saturday. I still needed to pack for Washington, but other than that I had a free weekend.

I lifted my head up as I heard someone enter the shop, the small bell jingling, but I felt my heart sink as I realized it was someone other than the boy I was waiting for. For fifteen minutes, he had made me wait. One of the waitresses, Lucy, came out from behind the barista bar to check up on me.

"He still hasn't shown up, babe?" she asked me with a sad tone, her faint Texan accent sticking out as she crossed her arms in front of her. I shook my head and gave a small smile. "What do you want? On the house?"

"One toffee frappe, please," I sighed, earning a smile from the lady. The front door slammed open, and the two of us looked over at the entrance in shock to see Spider-Man standing breathless at the door.

"Oh my God!" Lucy squealed. "I can't believe it!"

"Can I get the same thing, please?" Peter shouted, voice slightly deeper, clutching his side with a pant. Lucy gave me a bewildered look, looking back between the two of us. Wheezing, Peter made his way to the seat across from me. "Sorry I'm late."

"Yeah, by..." I tapped my phone to see the time, "Sixteen minutes and twenty-two seconds."

"Thanks for that," he grimaced. "Don't look, but everybody is staring at us."

"I'm sure they are, you have an awful accent," I sniggered, causing his suit eyes to narrow. "You do realize it sucks, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he sighed in annoyance.

"So why make me wait?" I asked him, growing serious. "Sixteen minutes is a long time to wait. Do you know how long I've waited for a toffee frappe today?"

"I'll pay for you then." Peter started patting down his legs, forgetting his suit didn't have pockets. "Shit..."

"Yeah, I'll pay," I sighed, pulling out my wallet. "Now, spill. Why were you late?"

"I was with Ne- an ally. About that purple explosion thing we saw," he explained. I gave a small nod for him to continue. "I tagged one of the guys responsible for it, and we found his location is close to where you're visiting in a week." I raised an eyebrow at his vague answer. So he was coming to Washington after all. "I thought you would have been more excited."

"No, I am," I told him, watching as Lucy carefully set down our drinks before hurrying back to the rest of her co-workers. I played with the straw, twirling it around a few times before taking a sip. Peter lifted up his mask so his mouth wasn't covered. "You haven't noticed that we don't hang out that much anymore... do you?"

"I have, actually," Peter answered slowly, forgetting to hide his proper voice. What emotion was he feeling? I could read every mind of the people inside the shop, but not his. "I-It's not making things weird between us... is it?"

"No, no," I shook my head. Peter chuckled.

"That's the worst lie you've ever told me," he sipped on his frappe. "Something's wrong; what is it?"

"I'm stressed, like badly stressed," I huffed. I glanced over at the growing crowd in the shop pretending to be interested in their drinks while trying to listen to our conversation. I slapped a twenty on the table and picked up my bag. "It's getting late, and I need to pack for the trip."