A/N: Not gonna lie, this one took me a while to write. Mostly because there's a lot of personal stuff in this one. A lot of what you see with the bullying in this series comes from my own experience—including the teachers throwing insults. I had to take some time with it, but I promise it gets happier from here! I'll section off the bullying scene so if it bothers anyone, it will be easy to skip.

Trigger warning: bullying

I sit curled up in my usual chair with what will definitely be part of my next book haul open on my lap. It's the only way to block out the anxiety driven worry over whether or not Peter and Ned will actually show up or if this really all is some elaborate trick. I mean, it wouldn't be the first time.

Don't think about that, Y/N. This time is going to be different. It's not like they even know any of the lies people say about you. They're nice and different. Just have a little faith.

"Y/N!" Kyle, the shop owner and my occasional boss, greets when he sees me. "What are you doing? Hiding from me or something?"

"No," I laugh, "just waiting for some friends."

He nods, clearly trying to hide his smile as he looks around. "Glad to hear it! Just don't forget to introduce me to them. Gotta make sure they pass the test."

I throw my head back with a groan. "How could I forget infamous test?"

"Hey, I'm just looking out for my favorite employee and customer." He tells me with a nudge. "Don't worry, I'll be nice."

"Thank you, Kyle." I reply with a soft laugh and turn back to my book as he leaves. There used to be a time when I would have taken something like that—someone looking out for me—for granted, but now, I wish I had brought all my supposed 'friends' in for Kyle's test.

The bell above the door rings, and I instinctively look up. This time, I finally see the faces I was hoping for. Peter looks around nervously, but Ned just beams and spots me immediately.

I push myself to my feet, tucking the book under my arm, and approaching them with a grin. "Hey! I'm glad you guys made it. I know this place can be hard to find if you're not sure where to look."

"Yeah!" Peter practically shouts. "Sorry, I mean, you gave pretty clear instructions on how to find it."

"So, how did you find this place?"

"Oh, my school librarian is Kyle, the owner's, mom. She told me about it one day when she caught me reading in detention. Now I come all the time, and work here over breaks."

"Your librarian?" Ned questions, and I shrug, trying not to panic at it. "Ours always yells at us for whispering."

"Yeah, she's like the one cool person there. She even lets me use my free period to work in the library and counts it as serving detention. Pretty sure that's why I don't live at school."

"You really get that much detention?" Peter asks, but a second later, his eyes go wide. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that."

"It's okay. Basically my classmates hate me, and because the teachers adore certain students so much, they hate me too. I can barely breathe without getting detention for something."

"Wow. That sucks." Peter tells me with an apologetic, understanding look, but I just shrug it off. "So, what's your favorite book?"

I grin and try not to laugh. "Depends, which kind of book are we talking about?"

"All of them." He replies, which launches me to drag the pair of them around the store, showing them all my favorites and discussing them.

"What?!" I screech in the middle of the store. Kevin offers me a joking glare. "Sorry, but he hasn't read Percy Jackson!"

"Is it really that good?" Peter questions.

"Is it? You know what—I'm getting you the first books." Peter tries to take them from my arms, but I easily side step him. "No arguments."

He easily catches me, and my heartbeat immediately speeds up. There's a moment of quiet as we just look at each other, his hands on my waist. All the blood in my body rushes to my cheeks, and my head feels fuzzy.

We pull away after a second when our senses come back to us. "Sorry, Pete, but you're my friend, which means I'm getting you the books." I tell him with what I hope is a flirtatious smile.

"Oh, no." Ned says, clearly forcing a panic into his voice. "I have to go. My mom needs—um—she needs me to help her with our garden."

Peter squints his eyes at the other boy, "Ned, you live in an apartment."

"I mean the community garden."

"Okay. We'll hang out again soon then?" Ned smiles and nods happily at me, offering a pointed look to Peter as he goes.

I smile and take Peter's hand to drag him up to the register. Kyle grins when he spots us. "So, is this your new friend?"

"Yeah, but it's not for sure. He hasn't read Percy Jackson yet." I tell him and push the stacks across the counter.

"Ooh." Kyle tuts, "Let me guess. She's making you read it now?"

Peter laughs, "I wouldn't say 'making me' so much as 'highly encouraging me'"

"I like this one. He passes the test."

"Test?" Peter asks looking between us.

"Kyle's patented 'friendship test.' It's notoriously hard to pass. But you just did." I can't stop smiling as I look over to Peter.

"Here." Kyle slides the books across the counter. "Take the books and enjoy the rest of your day."

"What? You know I can't do that." I tell him and put thirty dollars on the counter. "There. That should cover it."

"Fine, but I'm throwing in the book I saw you reading earlier." He sighs and puts them into my bag. "I won't hear any arguments. So just take them and go have fun!"

"I'm only agreeing cause you're my boss." I retort and take the bag.

"Oh, wait! You left your notebook last week. It's in the back if you want to go get it."

"Um, okay?" I reply and head back. I don't remember leaving my notebook, but I doubt Kyle would lie. "I'll be right back."

I rush to the back and find my notebook sitting on top of the lounge table. When I head back to the front, Kyle and Peter are talking in conspiratorial whispers. "Ready to go?"

"Oh, um, yeah." Peter stutters with a smile as he heads out. "So, you hungry?"

"Starving actually. I kind of darted out before my parents could pin me down and interrogate me about my new friend."

"Well, I know this great deli that's not far.
I always stop there on my way home."

"Wait, you live around here? I literally live like three blocks from the bookstore."

"Yeah, I'm not to far either." He pauses and hesitates before continuing. "So, if you live near here. Why do you got to EAST?"

"We live right between the two sectors, and they offered me a scholarship. So, yeah."

"But you seem like you hate it there. If you live between the two, why don't you transfer? You could come to Midtown!"

"I'd love to, but I'm barely keeping the grade requirements for EAST. Much less to transfer." My shoulders drop when I realize the other requirement. "Plus, I'd have to talk to my parents."

"What's so bad about that?"

"They don't actually know about how bad school is." I watch my feet as we continue. "I haven't had the nerve to tell them about the bullying and everything. And with my grades this bad, I doubt they'd agree to transfer me."

Peter stops and turns to me. "Then maybe I can help you? We could hang out and study so you can potentially transfer—if you want, that is?"

My heart lodges itself in my throat. "That—" I struggle to get the words out, "that'd be nice, and probably the nicest thing anyone's ever offered to do for me. So, forgive me for asking, but why would you wanna help me? Not that I don't appreciate it, but you barely know me. Plus, usually when someone's trying to be nice, it turns out to be a trap."

At the last bit, his eyes fill with the familiar pain I've been dealing with. "Because, I saw how those girls treated you, and no one deserves that. It's definitely not a trap, but I'll do whatever I can to prove that to you."

"You're something else, Peter Parker." I smile at him, "so I'm gonna go out on a limb and trust you on this one."

"I won't let you down." He tells me with the utmost seriousness. "Cmon, let's go get some food."

"Now you're speaking my language!" I cheer, and without thinking about it, I grab his hand as we walk along.

The entire walk, all I can focus on is that he hasn't dropped my hand and not letting it get all gross and sweaty from the nerves. I can't help it though. Peter's really cute, sweet, and the first person I've felt like I'd want to be more than friends with. Not that I'm going to act on them any time soon, but I doubt they'll go away.

Once we get the sandwiches, we go to the park and just talk. Peter tells me all about himself, and I do the same. Except, for once, I feel at ease opening up.

Hours later, my phone buzzes in my pocket with a bunch of texts from my mom asking when I'll be home. "I've got to go, but—I'll let you know what happens when I bring everything up to my parents and let you know?"

"Okay, and—um—maybe we can—we can hang out again soon?" Peter asks me nervously.

"Definitely." I smile and pull him into a hug. "Bye, Pete. Call me later, okay?"

He nods with a dazed smile. "Yeah. Of course." We both reluctantly part ways.

I can't help looking over my shoulder a few times to be sure it was all real and to remind me one of the reasons to finally tell my parents everything.

Despite all the fear of talking about it and making things worse like it always does, I can't stop smiling. It feels like I finally have real friends.

Although, the rest of the weekend rushes by in a blur of anxiety and nausea as I try to get the guest to tell my parents about the torture happening at school, and before I know it, Monday morning rolls up and smacks me in the face.

I swear more people are looking and laughing at me than usual as I walk the hallways between classes. It seems to keep me out of trouble for the first few periods, but then lunch happens. I shrink into my usual seat in the corner where no one ever sits and try to get down more than two bites of food, but there's a dreadful knot in my stomach that won't go away.

Mandy's been eyeing me all day. Probably plotting revenge for what happened at the football game, or maybe she's just feeling unusually cruel today. Either way, something is bound to happen, and it's going to be bad.

The proof comes when I see Olivia offering me a sad look as I stand up to leave. It's when I see a glimmer of the girl who used to be my friend before she decided popularity was worth more than who she was. Now she pretends she's dumb to make Mandy feel better, and only ever speaks or looks at me when commanded to do so.

— — — TW START — — —

Except, there's a split second of hope that this time's different. I almost make it out the door, but Mandy commands the table just near the entrance, which means no one can leave without the Queen B's permission.

My food barely falls into the trash before Mandy's attention locks onto me and a cruel, plastic filled smile breaks across her face. "And where do you think you're going?"

"Anywhere I don't have to smell that toxic waste you call perfume." I counter and clench my fists. "You really should invest in something different unless 'bog monster' is part of your personal branding now."

She clicks her tongue at that, manicured nails tapping against her hot cup of whatever semi-coffee flavored concoction is popular this week. "Thanks for that. Now that's two times I owe you for."

"Whatever, Mandy. I don't care as long as I don't have to see the entire makeup industry plastered on your face any longer."

"And that makes it a trifecta." She sneers and motions for me to leave.

I look at her oddly and give her a wide berth, but of course, Mandy seems to have already expected that. It's not until my cheek hits the linoleum floor that I realize she tripped me. My cheek and eye start to throb as I push myself up.

"Oops." Mandy laughs, and a second later, whatever she was drinking is soaking through my uniform and burning at my skin. I try to pull the fabric off, but it doesn't undo the damage.

Tears build in my eyes from the pain in my cheek and on my chest. A part of me expects someone to say something, but anyone who isn't laughing just looks away. I shake the coffee from my fingers towards Mandy, which sends her, Kitty, and Olivia shrieking, but all I focus on is getting out of the cafeteria.

I make it all the way to the nurse's office without another tear shed. She just looks me over, shirt stained, skin red, and a bruise probably forming on my cheek already, and offers me an understanding look. "Sit down."

She stays silent as she gets the burn ointment. "It's not too bad, but I have half a mind to send you home."

"I can't. I have an AP Calculus test this hour."

Nurse Loveless looks at the clock. "Hon, you're not gonna have the time to take it."

"What?" I cry and glance at the time. "Shoot! I have to go."

"Y/N!" I can hear her shouting after me, but I don't stop as I rip open my locker and grab my sweatshirt to slip on over my coffee stained uniform.

I slip in the door with ten minutes left of class, and my heart drops down to the main floor with a resounding thud. Mr. Gleason absolutely hates me. There's no way I can make it out of this one unscathed. "Miss L/N, nice to see you finally decided to grave us with your present, and out of uniform no less." He snaps with a glare. "Sit down and I'll give you the test."

"Actually, sir," a lump forms in my throat, and suddenly I wished I had stayed in the nurse's office, "I came to ask if I could take the test another day. Miss—I mean—Nurse Loveless was—is sending me home."

Scattered laughs erupt from my classmates, who are discreetly glancing up from their tests to witness what's about to happen. Mr. Gleason takes his glasses off, which only makes his ice blue eyes seem so much colder.

"Fine, but I'm docking ten points," he snaps and shoves my test into a folder. I want to vomit right then and there. Gleason's tests are notoriously hard to get even a B on, which means he's knowingly setting me up to fail. Not that he seems to care. The thought is confirmed as he looks up at me with the utmost disdain, "Now get out of my classroom and stop wasting oxygen."

— — — TW END — — —

I turn around as calmly as I can amidst the un-contained laughs. My hands won't stop shaking as I shove my books into my bag and trudge back to Nurse Loveless, who seems to have already been expecting me. "I'd like to go home, please."

"I assumed as much. I'm calling your mother to let her know." Her voice is soft as she wraps an arm around me, and I wonder how a school so dreadful managed to get kind people like Nurse Gleason and our librarian, Miss Bowing. "Are you going to be okay?"

I nod. My mouth is too dry to speak, and my eyes hurt to much to cry anymore. So I just stand there and wait as she talks to my mom and fills her in with the vaguest explanation she can give.

It's only when the phone is held out to me that I snap back to reality. "Hello?" I croak out and try desperately not to cry.

"Hey, sweetheart." Mom's soft, tender voice filters through the speakers. "Miss Gleason said something happened and you're not feeling well. Do you need me to come get you?"

All the resolve I had to take the subway home instantly crumbles, and I feel like a toddler longing for my mom's comfort and embrace. "Please." I manage to whisper through the tears.

"Okay. Just take deep breaths and sit tight. I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?" I hand the phone back to the nurse and carefully drop my head into my hands.

It's quiet in the office except for the clamor in the hall as everyone rushes to their next class, and a few minutes later, the sound of lone shoes clicking against the time nears the nurse's office.

My mom comes in, whispering to Gleason before reaching for my hand. "C'mon, let's get you home."

I can feel her staring and waiting for me to say something as starts the car up. "Do you—do you wanna tell me what happened?" She questions and brushes my hair back to uncover the developed bruise, but all I can manage is a sob. She immediately pulls the car to the side and wraps me in a tight hug. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything until you're ready."

"I'm sorry, Momma." I sob into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

"I should have told you sooner." I continue and pull away to wipe my eyes. "I wanted to, but I was scared. No one's believed me when I told them."

"I'll always believe you, sweetheart." She whispers, her voice full of sadness. "So, please, tell me."

"Everyone hates me, Mom. They laugh at me, trip me, spread lies, get me in trouble, and shoves notes in my locker. I tried telling the teachers and the principal, but no one believed me." I start to cry harder, "And the teachers are just as bad. They make jokes about me in class and look the other way. It didn't help when Olivia decided she'd rather be stepped on by Mandy than be seen with a loser like me."

Mom's hand cups my face and gently shifts it so I'm looking at her. "You are not a loser, Y/N, and I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't talk about this sooner."

"No, I'm sorry, Mom."

"It's okay. You shouldn't feel sorry about anything because none of this is your fault." Tears stream down her cheeks too, and she pulls me close. "But it's gonna be okay. I'll speak to your Dad and the principal about this, and we'll do whatever we need to make this right. Okay?"

"Okay." I whisper back and feel the ache from holding everything in for years just disappear. Maybe things can change, and they'll finally be okay.