You were crushing on him. My gosh, were you crushing on him. Ever since you both started your freshman year, you had thought the world of him. He was popular. He had the most handsome smile you had ever seen. He got pretty good grades.

And yet, it seemed like he didn't even know of your existence. No matter how much you silently willed it (you were always too timid to talk to him), Harry Osborne never noticed you. You didn't blame him for it, though. You were always the more quiet type; off sitting by yourself and reading some obscure novel.

You knew that you had missed your chance when he didn't come back to school for junior year, even though his friend, Peter stayed. For the first few months, you missed Harry, but got over it surprisingly fast. You found yourself daydreaming less and less and getting slightly better grades. By second semester, you didn't really think of him at all.

"Tardy again, Mr. Parker," scolded the professor. Class had started almost fifteen minutes ago. A few students snickered.

"I-I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." Peter practically brought a whirlwind into the previously quiet classroom as he scurried to his seat.

"That's what you said yesterday. Don't make promises that you can't keep. I excused your sudden week long vacation. I can't continue to let this go on. If you're going to be late and disrupt my class, don't bother coming at all."

Realizing the gravity of his situation, Peter simply nodded, straightening himself in his seat. He pulled out his books quietly.

The next day was exactly the same, only this time he had a brilliant purple bruise across his face. It looked like he was still bleeding in some places too.

"That's quite the shiner you've got there, Parker. I hope that isn't your excuse for being tardy again."

"Well, sir... I... uh... it's just..." he looked at the floor, "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

The professor didn't even respond this time. He continued on with his lesson, but not without making sure Peter understood how extremely disappointed he was.

You noticed how quiet Peter was during class and felt sorry for him. You wondered who the heck could have hit him so hard to make such a harsh bruise. He had come in injured before, but never that badly.

Class was dismissed. Everyone was filing out of the classroom. You would have been too, but some moron kicked over your backpack, sending the contents sliding across the floor.

"Dude, seriously?" You spat, but the guy was already gone. Soon, you were left alone near the back of the classroom. The only other people in the room were the teacher and Peter Parker. They were up front, at the desk.

You couldn't help but overhear the conversation as you picked up your things.

"What's happened, Peter? You were my best student! Your grades are plummeting. You've either been late to every class or missed it altogether!"

"I'm really sorry, sir. I've just had a lot of other- uh, responsibilities lately. I'm really trying. I'll be here early tomorrow, I promise."

The teacher sighed. "I'm counting on you to keep that promise this time. What about your homework that was due today?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that it got blown up?" 'Pfft. Boys,' you thought, mentally rolling your eyes.

"No."

"Didn't think so. I'll work on it tonight."

"Don't let me down again, Peter. You're so smart, I'd hate to have to fail you." There was a second of silence. "Who hit you?"

"Oh, just some guy at work."

After Peter had walked out the door, you picked up your backpack and hurried to catch up with him in the hall. "Hey, Peter!"

He stopped and turned around, wondering who had called him. He stiffened when he saw you leaving the classroom. "Oh, hi, (Y/N). Were you in there that whole time?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah. Someone kicked over my backpack. I was picking up my books."

"So you heard all of that?"

"It was kind of hard not to. Sorry. Can I ask how you got hurt?" you gestured to the darkening bruise that was sprawled across half of his face.

He chuckled. "It was an accident. One of my- er... co-workers and I were sparring, just messing around really, and she got a little too into it."

You were shocked. "A girl did that to you? Wow."

"Yeah. You wouldn't be surprised if you knew her. I'm just glad I walked away with minimal injuries." He started walking again and you went with him.

"So you and your coworkers will just randomly start sparring? For fun? I thought it was a little rowdy at Subway when we started dancing to Footloose on the radio. Where do you work?"

"Well," he hesitated for a long moment before answering, "I'm really just an intern there. It's kind of like a defense organization or something. Security type stuff."

"Oh, neat. Sounds a lot more exciting than fast food." You whipped your Subway hat out of your bag, plastering on your 'customer service smile'. "Hello!" you began perkily, "Welcome to Subway! What can I get for you today?"

You both laughed.

"I don't know. Dancing to Footloose behind the counter does sound pretty fun."

"Oh, it was." You smiled, taking your hat off of your head.

"Is that an Avengers pin?"

You looked down at one of the many buttons that you had pinned on it. "Yup. They're my heroes. I'd be orphaned or dead if they weren't there to save the day."

"Wow. What happened?"

"It was a few years ago, back when the aliens attacked the city. Our car got wrecked and my parents were knocked out on impact. The Black Widow pulled us out before the car caught fire. It was so cool to watch her take on all of those aliens - with their own blasters, might I add. She did it so flawlessly, as if she had been handling extra-terrestrial weapons for years." You were caught in the flashback. You remembered being utterly terrified. The creatures were appaling and ugly. They shot at anything that moved. You had been the only one awake in the vehicle and, being younger at the time, had no idea what to do. Neither of your parents had responded to your cries.

When the Black Widow pulled you out, she had seemed like an angel to you. Sure, she had been covered in blood, sweat, and grime, but she had saved you. Your parents were waking up and the aliens were lying, dead, on the ground.

"That's awesome." Peter's voice brought you back to the present. He had a funny grin on his face, which disappeared when he noticed you looking at him again. "I remember that day. It was scary."

"Yeah."

The two of you walked together to the cafeteria. You were struck with a sudden disappointment, however, realizing that you would have to part with your newfound friend. He would probably go hang out with his nerd friends and you would go sit alone at one of the back tables and read your book.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, a boy with thick glasses and a perfectly ironed button-up shirt walked up to Peter and began bombarding him with words. He seemed to be ranting about some video game. You took that as your cue to leave. You waved silently to Peter before heading to your usual seat.

You had opened your sandwich and were just beginning to read when someone set down a tray across the table from you. You looked up. Peter was standing there. "Can I sit with you?" he asked, smiling.

"Sure," you answered, trying to sound indifferent. On the inside, however, you were pleased to have finally found a real friend.