Just a Cloud Away — Pharrell Williams

Peter realized he was very good at making lists. He was also skilled in dodging phone calls from the head of secret government organizations, but that wasn't important. What was important, was that by the end of his last week of junior year, Peter Parker had a plan in motion.

His list was something Aunt May had started for him, telling him that he'd likely need an international charging converter. He'd have to pick one up before he left for Europe, and his aunt asked if there was anything else he might need. The list took on a life of its own from there, and became slightly more unconventional the more he added things to it.

It really wasn't anything particularly out of the ordinary, really. Honestly the most stressful thing on his list consisted of waiting in line for his passport at the post office. His aunt patiently reminded him that he did also have "Finally take down the Manfredi crime family" listed just underneath, but that was nothing compared to potentially going postal while waiting to pick something up.

It was fine. Thursday afternoon, which usually consisted of a long and tiring school schedule, actually breezed by. This was, of course, due to the fact that it was the last day of school. Teachers were wrapping up the year by putting on movies or handing out summer reading lists. Soon enough, Peter found himself in one of his last classes with nothing to do. He was practically vibrating with nervous energy when he sat down next to Ned. Seeing Lila talking with MJ a few desks down, he kept his voice low to not be overheard.

"I have a plan," Peter said, his body humming with excitement. "Okay, first, I'm gonna sit next to Lila on the flight." Ned merely hummed along in response. "Second, I'm gonna buy a dual-headphone adapter, and watch movies with her the whole time."

Ned nodded, "Okay."

"Three: When we got to Venice — Venice is super famous for making stuff out of glass, right — so, I'm gonna buy her a bracelet with some flowers on it. I'm thinking lemons because she's been telling me about her lemon tree in the greenhouse that's basically her plant baby."

"It is her citrus child," Ned agreed.

"Right! Four: When we go to Paris, I'm gonna take her to the top of the Eiffel Tower, give her the bracelet, and then five — I'm gonna tell her how I feel." Peter stole a glance at Lila before looking back at Ned. "And then six — hopefully she tells me she feels the same way."

The moment Peter was able to hang out alone with just Ned after the Hobgoblin had kidnapped Lila, he had told Ned about his feelings for Lila. Ned, after a brief moment where he smugly smirked at his friend, told him he was really happy for Peter, and relieved that he'd finally come around to his own feelings. He had no problem with Peter admitting his feelings for Lila, until he'd initially heard that Peter wanted to do it on their trip to Europe.

"Don't forget step seven," Ned reminded him, and Peter immediately whipped out a pen to take notes. "Don't do any of that."

Peter gave a disbelieving look. "Why?"

Ned waved his hand as if the answer was obvious. "Because we're gonna be bachelors in Europe, Peter!"

"Ned—"

"Look," Ned argued, "I may not know much, but I do know this: Europeans love Americans."

A skeptical expression settled on Peter's face. "Really?"

"And more than half of them are women!"

"Okay, sure," Peter admitted, but not before looking back up at Lila. He turned back to Ned. "But, I really like Lila, man, okay? She's awesome, she's so nice it's kind of intimidating, and sometimes I catch her looking at me and I feel like I stood up way too — she's coming over. Just don't say anything," Peter hissed the last part as Lila and MJ both walked over to the pair of them. Peter straightened up immediately and opened his mouth, but Michelle beat him to it.

"What's up, dorks?" She greeted them, holding a large poster under her arm. Peter and Lila shared a look in greeting, and Peter's stomach did a little flip-flop before he turned his attention back onto his friend. "Are you excited for the science trip?"

"Hey, uh — yeah. We were just... talking about the trip."

"Yeah, and Peter's plan," Ned added. Peter's stomach rolled with nerves, and he tried not to look at Lila. Or fix Ned with a murderous glare.

Lila tilted her head, "You have a pl-plan?"

A breathy, nervous laugh escaped Peter. He looked at Lila again, realizing he hadn't seen her all day, really. She looked really pretty with her loose cardigan and tattered jeans. And her hair was pulled up by a clip, exposing her face. His embarrassment actually kept him talking, otherwise he probably would've just kept staring. "I don't — I don't have a plan."

Ned really thought he was saving his friend when he added, "Oh, he's just gonna collect tiny spoons when we're traveling to other countries."

A beat of silence passed, which was enough for both Lila and MJ to blink in confusion, for Ned to throw a wink at him, and for Peter to want to curl up in a ball and die. MJ asked, "Tiny spoons, like — like a grandmother?"

"I'm not collecting tiny spoons," Peter said while pointing his pen at Ned, "He's collecting tiny spoons."

"Oh," MJ said, waving her finger between the two of them. Lila's eyes were shining with amusement. "Okay. Well, that was a real rollercoaster. Uh — by the way, travel tip: you should download a VPN on your phones so that the government can't track you while we're abroad."

"Smart, will do."

"Lila can give you the one I told her to get, I've gotta go put this—" MJ gestured to the poster board tucked under her arm, "— somewhere until my dad can pick it up. Lila, VPN." She warned, a look flashing in her eyes as she looked between Lila and Peter before she walked out of the room. Peter tilted his head in confusion, wondering what that was all about.

Lila seemed to have an idea, for she had a light blush dusting her cheeks. It made Peter's stomach hurt a little, she looked so cute. But then she sat down in front of them and looked between them. "Are y-you guys all packed for the trip? Did you pack any fancy clothes, I h-hear we're going to see a show in Paris."

"I've got a suit my mom bought me and a hat to match," Ned said proudly, smirking between the two. But his smirk fell, and a wistful expression overcame him. "But I couldn't fit my magic books in there. Not with my computer, anyway, and we all know that's a must."

Both Peter and Lila nodded in understanding. Ever since Peter's fight with the Hobgoblin, Ned had been more invested in magic and its inner workings. After Peter had relayed offhandedly the Hobgoblin's ability to teleport, Ned started swearing up and down that he felt similar capabilities. It mostly had to do with tingles in his fingers ("So far," he'd said when asked), and his grandmother saying Ned's family had an affinity for magic, but it hadn't gone much further. However, he'd started accumulating multiple books on magical practices throughout history, and the science behind them.

Lila smiled, affection and amusement in her green eyes. She turned to Peter and asked, "Wh-What about you? Are you—" she lowered her voice as two people walked by, "— Are you bringing any s-suits?"

That was a topic Peter had debated with himself for the past month. Should he bring his Spider-Man suit with him to a school trip in Europe? The pros and cons list felt unending in Peter's head, but a few points stood out in particular.

The first being the most obvious: having the suit was a kind of assurance in the off chance that any emergency or threat might surface. Peter could help out if something were happening, and the Stark technology would also help keep his friends safe. It was a literal safety net, and was sleek enough to pass through the TSA unnoticed. Or so he hoped.

The second — it was a dead giveaway. The last time Spider-Man appeared out of the city was when his academic decathlon team went to D.C. for the national competition. If Spider-Man appeared in the middle of Europe with Midtown High once again, anyone would be able to put two and two together. It was honestly a miracle that Lila was the only one who did last time.

The third reason, and this was the reason Peter had kept largely to himself: the press. As of late, Peter had been helping his aunt May promote the work at F.E.A.S.T., where May was employed. It was basically a publicity stunt to shine a light on those displaced by the Blip. Peter had been happy to help his aunt spread the good word. He even went so far as to talk to a couple news outlets whenever he was swinging around.

And yet, like a lot of recent journalism, the journalists had very little to ask about the fundraising efforts of May's shelter, and more to ask Spider-Man about his status with the Avengers. Because ever since last August, there'd been a void in the world of superheroes. The world greatly missed Tony Stark and his alter-ego, but was starting to get anxious about who was going to step in his shoes. According to the press, Spider-Man seemed like a valid next option. A protégée to Iron Man, outfitted in Stark technology, people were starting to ask questions.

And instead of being able to answer them, all it did to Peter was make him panic. The hole in his heart that he'd managed to put aside for the majority of his very busy junior year was slowly starting to get bigger. He knew it was because more and more he was missing Tony, but the thought of following his work made him panic. The idea of traveling around the world, solving the world's problems without the help of Iron Man was terrifying. What was worse: Peter had a nagging thought that maybe he didn't deserve to.

"Um — I think I'm just bringing a nice shirt," Peter finally answered. "You know, May found these nice slacks, I was thinking those... No — no suits. Not this time." Lila merely nodded, her eyes never breaking contact. Maybe it was the fluorescents, but her eyes looked especially green today, like the sage leaves that hung off of the pots in her kitchen window.

"What about you?" Ned asked. Both Peter and Lila blinked, having nearly forgotten their friend was there. "You must be excited to see your family again, Lila."

Her smile was bright and earnest as she leaned forward to answer. "O-Oh my gosh, yes. I haven't seen my grand-mère since she visited back in middle school. And it's her e-eightieth birthday, so all my extended family's coming." With the trip ending in Paris, Lila had arranged to stay longer to visit her mother's family, all of which she tried to remain very close with.

She was anxious to see them ever since the Blip, which hadn't left her family unscathed. Half of her aunts, uncles and cousins had all been lost like herself. Her grandmother had been one of them, and as the family's matriarch, they were jumping at the chance to gather and celebrate something.

Peter had been present a few times when Lila was FaceTiming her family. They were simply making plans for when Lila would be out there and also discussing gift ideas for Edith Chenault, but Peter was mesmerized. It was always one thing to study language in an academic setting, and to know someone spoke multiple languages, but it was another thing entirely to hear Lila speak French.

Peter knew that French was a beautiful-sounding language, but that beauty took on a whole new meaning when he heard Lila converse in it. Sure, he'd heard her say French words here and there, and talk about her family and mother, but there was an ease about Lila when she spoke it. Like if he asked her, she might not have even realized she was speaking French. It was as easy as breathing for her. A part of Peter knew he was romanticizing her bilinguality, and that so many people spoke more than one language, but for him it was just another reason why this girl was so special. It also gave him the idea to practice a couple of phrases in French to tell Lila how he felt. He just hoped he looked cooler telling her than he did telling his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"I just wish you guys could meet them," she sighed, tapping her fingers on the desk. The bell overhead rang, and students still lingering in the classroom let out excited sighs, ready for the break. "I'd b-better go find MJ, she's taking me into the city to pick up my grand-mère's present." She stood up and smiled at both of them. "See you tomorrow!" One last look at Peter, and Lila added, "Oh, and good luck with that — that f-fundraiser at F.E.A.S.T. Tell May I'm sorry I can't make it."

Lila was walking across the threshold of the classroom door by the time Peter replied, "Will do!" He was shouldering his backpack when he caught Ned's expression. "What?"

"You've got it bad, dude."

Peter shoved him playfully, though a hint of pink burned his cheeks as the two left the classroom. The hallways were already crowded with students, some emptying lockers (Flash Thompson was inspecting something that looked like a banana he likely forgot about in August), some throwing papers around and others just talking to their friends. Peter had already cleaned out his locker, so all he had to do was head out and finish his Europe To-Do List.

"So," Ned asked, "What are you going to do on your last day in New York?"

"Ooh, I have some errands to run: I need to get mini toothpaste—" Peter ignored Flash throwing trash at his back as he began listing things on his fingers, "— pick up my passport, and then take down the Manfredi crime ring." The last part was spoken quietly, though it didn't seem to matter. No one was paying any attention to the two of them, as everyone else was wrapped up in their own summer plans.

They arrived near the front doors when Peter's phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. His heart sank just a bit before realizing it was just an automated text from the post office to let him know his passport was ready for pickup. There was another unanswered text from May, asking about details for the fundraiser that evening. Realizing the doors were where he parted ways with Ned, Peter said goodbye to his friend and made his way through the streets of Queens, his to-do list much longer than he'd relayed initially.

                                *****

"Remind me again why I needed to come along?" Michelle mumbled after yet another stranger bumped her shoulder. Usually an expert at avoiding such encounters, MJ had far less success when it came to the tourists that flooded the streets in Manhattan. The spring air had not only brought the sun along with it, it seemed.

Lila, who was shorter than her friend, and far less visible when walking single file on the crowded street, was having an even less fortunate time. Stumbling to catch her balance after a particularly aggressive tourist passed, Lila huffed and hiked her backpack further up her shoulders. "Because you're good moral support."

"For your own friend?"

"You are also scary-good at navigation, and I didn't want to get lost."

Michelle hummed. "There it is." The pair turned down a quieter street and spread out. Now walking side by side, MJ cast a suspicious glance toward Lila. "You know I disagree with Harry's entire existence, right? And you're still bringing me along."

"We're going to dinner with Sophie and Cara," Lila said. The breeze floated past them, carrying the scent of pastries from a bakery they passed. The air was humid, but just cool enough that it didn't stick to her skin. "Fiaschetteria Pistoia is the name, I think? Plus, you wanted to go thrifting anyway."

"Yeah, but knowing Harry, he probably rented out the space or something pretentious like that."

Lila scoffed as they neared their destination, "I'm sure that's not... tr-true..." The words died on her lips, for sure enough, the store looked like it was closed. The shades on the storefront windows were drawn, barely any light able to escape. The only dead giveaway that they were in the right place at all was the familiar figure of Eddie, Harry's driver, standing outside the shop door.

Once he saw Lila, he smiled warmly in recognition and held out his fist. Lila bumped her own against his and returned the smile timidly. "H-Hi, Eddie."

"Good to see you, baby-cakes." His southern drawl was as warm as the sun on their faces. His eyes flickered over to MJ, and he respectfully tipped his hat. "And, uh — friend."

"I'm beginning to question." Was all she said in response.

It was times like these Lila didn't mind being shorter than MJ, for her elbow could connect perfectly with her friend's ribs. "Eddie, this — this is Michelle, sh-she's my best friend."

Eddie's eyes gleamed mischievously. "I will give you ten dollars in cash if you say that to Harry's face. Lord knows that boy needs a little humility every now and then."

Michelle's expression gave hardly anything away, but to Lila's trained eye, she knew Eddie won her over. "Make it twenty and I'll tell him I've got a drawer of clothes at Lila's house."

Eddie let out a low whistle before chuckling. "You drive a hard bargain, honey." He held out a hand, which MJ gladly shook. "Now, get on in there and have some fun. I'll be out here if you need me."

The store in question was a unique type shop. Honestly, there might not have been a need to close down the store, it was hardly ever crowded. It was borderline questionable how the store managed to stay open, to the outsider. But those in the neighborhood knew its hidden treasures, and kept the gem buried in the hustle and bustle of Hell's Kitchen.

Dana's Drawings was best compared to a comic book store or a record shop; however, housed within were thousands of hand-drawn pieces of art. Categories ranging from museum sketches (Lila's personal favorite) to inventions to caricatures of strangers long gone from somewhere were all organized and sheathed in plastic and waiting to be sold. There were other things that sold, like sheet music, or prints of famous drawings or replicas of historical documents, of course, but someone would be just as likely to fetch a gem if they knew exactly what they were looking for. And Lila, being the type-A person that she was when it came to acquiring gifts for others, knew exactly what she wanted.

But that thought took a backseat as she took in Harry's casual appearance. Dressed in expensive athletic leisure wear, sipping on what was no doubt the blueberry oat milk latte he'd been obsessing over, one might mistake him for some random, trendy New Yorker. But everyone in the store, all four people (the shop's manager included), knew better.

"Wh-What the hell."

Without looking up from whatever sketch he was eyeing, Harry said, "Not sure why that sounds so accusatory, Poppy, you asked me to meet you here."

Soft music played overhead, and the floorboards creaked underneath as Lila made her way over to Harry. "Yeah to do some — some shopping like we al-always do. Why did you close the store?"

"I say it because I love you and you can take it, but I've seen you shop for gifts, Peony." Harry took a sip of his coffee, the ice swirling in his cup. "You don't take outside stimulation well when you're trying to pick something out for somebody. It makes you surprisingly irritable."

Lila gaped. "I don't — that's n-not — I—" Her head swiveled between Harry and Michelle, who didn't look like she was in disagreement. "MJ!"

Her friend merely shrugged. "You're like a gremlin when buying presents. A little gift-giving gremlin."

"Wow, a-attacked on all sides, here."

She was ignored by the both of them, for both Harry and Michelle were now sizing each other up. They'd only met barely in passing, sending nods each other's way as Lila went from one friend to the other. But standing in the shop, it was different. Now they actually had to hold a conversation.

"Do you always read letters fathers have written to their sons?" Michelle spoke first.
Sure enough, the section Harry had been reading through was titled Fathers and Sons: Correspondence.

If Harry was embarrassed, he didn't let on. "It's reassuring to know that dads suck throughout history." He briefly glanced at Lila. "Most dads, anyway. But I'm sure you can relate."

"Can I?"

"I don't know, this whole — grungy, raging, intellectual feminist vibe wouldn't be complete without daddy issues. The fact that you wear it so well, too... I wonder what other teenage rebellion clothing articles you possess. Maybe a sweater made of Ruth Bader Ginsburg's hair?"

Lila sucked a breath through her teeth. For a moment, all was quiet as Michelle's stare never wavered. Completely monotone, she responded, "That one's in my drawer at Lila's house. Along with my Eat the Rich top and Release Norman Osborn's Tax Returns hoodie."

Harry's facade cracked. His jaw dropped before he folded his arms and poured. "That was a low blow, talking about a drawer at Bluebell's house. So rude."

"I still n-need a gift, in case anyone is wondering," Lila waved her hand awkwardly. The last of the tension fizzled out, and Harry waved over the store manager. Finally, the three of them set to work.

Harry and Michelle perused their own respective sections (Harry fixated on Celebrity Hyperrealism and MJ flipped through Wakandan Political Cartoons) while Lila zeroed in on the sole reason for shopping at Dana's: Fashion sketches.

Her grandmother, Edith, embodied Parisian class. Lila had always thought that her mother was timeless, but Angelina learned from the best. Her keen eye for fashion behind the lens of a camera vaulted her into the whirlwind of fashion photography. And working in Paris during the 1950's and 1960's meant working for the best of the best. To name a few, Yves Saint Laurent used to come round for dinner on Friday evenings to go over the looks and models, and Christian Dior would always buy Edith a coffee after she photographed his pieces.

She spent her life amongst some of the most creative minds in fashion, and built her persona around appearances and impressions. But perhaps the most impressive aspect of Lila's grandmother was her unwavering kindness. She was a proud Parisian, but never snobbish. Her pride and joy were her four children and their own children. Family was all she ever wanted, and Edith lived her life treating everyone like they were a part of hers.

So what to get, for the woman who had it all? It was customary to bring a thoughtful gift, especially for someone's birthday. But it was so damn hard to shop for Edith Chenault. A pure chance Lila had come across Dana's Drawings, but a real stroke of brilliance on her part when she found the section for fashion sketches. Original designs from strangers mixed in with sketches of Versace and Chanel. That was the magic of this place, very few drawings were singled out, and, if the buyer knew what they were doing, they'd likely leave the store with a piece of history.

So when Lila's fingers flipped to the sketch of a woman in a blue dress with a matching blue hat, Lila grinned. The neat "Dior '52" in red ink near the bottom of the sketch was blatant. A piece like this, Lila knew, ran for several thousand. But the price sticker near the top read "$150".

Lila found a few more sketches (some of flowers to decorate the shop, of course) and headed over to the checkout. Her friends were quick to join her, their own collections of sketches piled in their arms. The manager was clearly nervous at Harry's presence, but was very kind to the three of them. While Michelle was being checked out, Lila noticed something in the stack of frames along the wall behind the counter.

"E-Excuse me," She started, grabbing the attention of the manager. "What's that, in the black frame?"

The manager, Sarah, peered over her shoulder to find what Lila was looking at. "Oh," she started, grinning, "That just came in earlier this week." Sarah turned around and grabbed the frame. Bringing it into view, she displayed the sketch proudly, and Lila's jaw dropped.

Sitting in a frame the size of a photograph was a drawing of an arc reactor. The edges of the paper were frayed, like it had been ripped out of a sketchbook. There was a ring from a coffee stain near one corner, and on the opposite corner were the initials TS. The same TS that was signed on the business card Lila still kept in her wallet.

"How much?" She said without even realizing.

"I'll part with it for $300, but I can't do less than that."

Her hands were tingling. She should've felt bothered that she was dipping into her trip money to buy the sketch, but she couldn't shake the excited feeling. The finality. She'd been looking for a reason, and this was it.

"Peter's gonna love this," Was all Lila could murmur. And he would. Peter had done so much for her, this was the least she could do. She knew that though he rarely talked about it, Peter missed Tony so much. It felt like returning it to its rightful owner, and hopefully it would inspire him to be the best he could be.

But more importantly, all Lila could think about was giving the sketch to him, the two of them in Paris, maybe by the Eiffel Tower. Maybe then, Lila could tell Peter the honest truth, that she'd had a crush on him for forever. Maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same.

A low whistle was what brought her back. She looked over at Harry, who simply shook his head.

"You've got it bad, my girl."

I lived, bitch. And I realize it's been like, a year since I updated, and I'm sorry. I love this story, I just got caught up. For the two of you still out there, I hope you're doing alright, too. Love you guys. Unedited. Xx