Peter walks home in Hello Kitty pajama pants and a, 'I survived my trip to New York,' t-shirt, but he's not sure if he's survived anything at all. He feels like he's been taken apart and put back together again but too forcefully, too wrong. He feels like he could throw up right here, right now, on the already-dirty sidewalk.

He feels like crap.

He thinks of Grace, wondering what she's doing right now. Probably blocking his number, maybe calling Harley, talking to Mr. Stark. Maybe crying, though he hopes she's doing anything but crying. The thought of being the reason she's crying...

He'd rather she hate him.

As he gets closer to his apartment, he thinks of May. What's she gonna think? Does she know? Did Tony call her, too? She's probably worried about him; she called earlier, a hundred times, and he didn't answer. It adds to his guilt tenfold.

He knocks on the apartment door softly when he reaches it, and May opens it instantly. She looks relieved when she sees him. "Hey," he says.

She turns and goes into the apartment, trying to breathe, freaking out. He walks in and closes the door quietly. She turns back around. Her eyes are glassy. "I've been calling you all day. You didn't answer your phone- you can't do that. Then, this ferry thing happens. I've called five police stations." Peter looks down, says nothing. "Five," she repeats. "I called five of your friends-"

"I'm fine-"

"I called Ned's mother-"

"May, I'm okay," he says, trying to reassure her. "Honestly. Just relax. I'm fine."

"Cut the crap, Peter," she says angrily. "I know you left detention. I know you left the hotel room in Washington. I know you sneak out of this house every night. That's not fine. Peter, you have to tell me what's going on. Just lay it out. It's just me and you."

Peter closes his eyes. He can't tell her. He can't tell her about Spider-Man. If she's this worried now...

He can't. He just can't.

Then, she asks him a question, point blank. "Have you been going to see Grace?"

It's like a punch to Peter's gut. "Twice," he chokes out.

"Peter, you can't-"

And then it just comes out. "I lost the Stark internship."

May stops. "What? What happened?"

Peter shakes his head, crying again. "I just thought that I could work really hard and he could- he would- you know. But I screwed it up..."

May pauses, her heart sinking for him. "Can you still talk to Grace? Can you still see her?"

Peter shakes his head, looking up at her now. "I-I don't know. I can't lose her, too, May. I can't." His voice breaks, and she hugs him, pulling him to her as he just cries.

"It's okay, it's okay. It's okay," she whispers, remembering all the times she's held this boy as he cried, from a baby to right now. Her son, no matter the circumstances.

"I'm sorry I made you worry," he says, his own voice reminding him of a child.

May sighs. "You know, I'm not trying to ruin your life."

"Yeah, I know."

"Just... I used to sneak out, too."

Peter laughs a little. "Yeah."

May leans forward, her face closer to his hair. She grimaces. "And take a shower. You smell. You smell like garbage."

Peter laughs again, pulling away. "I know."

~~~~

After taking a shower, Peter sits down on his bed, grabbing his phone.

He has to call her. He has to apologize. To make it right. So, he calls, anxiously waiting for her to answer.

It rings. And it rings. And it rings. And it rings...

Then, he hears her voice.

"This is The Stark Who Shall Not Be Named. Leave a message. Or just call my dad." Her voicemail. Peter's never heard it before. Her voice sounds a bit higher, like it was recorded a few years ago. Before they met. Before he hurt her.

He hangs up. He tries again.

It rings. And it rings. And it rings.

"This is The Stark Who Shall Not Be Named. Leave a message. Or just call my dad."

It beeps.

"Grace, please. Please pick up." He has to stop talking; he's crying too much. He takes a breath, talks again. "I'm so sorry. Grace, you have no idea how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted this. I... I know I don't even deserve for you to pick up, but... I wanna try to make it right. I wanna explain. Just please... pick up the phone."

He hangs up. He waits.

~~~~

Grace sits on her bed for a long time, looking at her sketchbook. At that picture. The page is folded over, sticking up now. She's barely shaded Gatsby yet.

She flips the page, not wanting to look at it anymore.

But she flips to something worse.

It's Peter, looking out at the skyline from her balcony, a smile on his face. She really has to commend herself on her skills; his hair looks just as soft as it did in real life.

She remembers she's supposed to be mad at him and pushes the sketchbook away, reminding herself that he hasn't even called her yet. Hasn't spoken to her all day, despite the fact that he kissed her last night.

He kissed her, and it was more than she ever hoped it would be.

And now her phone is ringing, and it's him, and his stupid contact picture pops up — the picture he sent her on the bus, with Ned, though Ned's mostly cropped out.

She looks at his cheesy smile until it goes away, the call unanswered. A few seconds later, that ringtone starts blaring again.

"Wise men say, 'Only fools rush in...'"

She had the time, so she made it her ringtone for Peter a few days ago. Why, she didn't know. She was bored. She likes the song... She likes him. She almost wants to change it again, to something generic, something inconsequential. But she doesn't move to do anything. Just watches the screen.

The phone stops ringing.

She waits longer for it to start ringing again, and she almost thinks that Peter gave up until it pops up that she has a voicemail. A bit hesitantly, she listens to it.

"Grace, please. Please pick up." He sounds like he's going to cry, and there's a pause. He takes a deep breath. "I'm so sorry. Grace, you have no idea how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted this. I... I know I don't even deserve for you to pick up, but... I wanna try to make it right. I wanna explain. Just please... pick up the phone."

The voicemail ends then, and Grace, after a moment, replays it. She thought she'd be able to handle listening to it, really. She was wrong. Hearing his voice makes her want to call him. Talk to him.

A few years ago, before she even met him, she would've done the same thing. Not everyone —definitely not Peter — has the luxury of learning life lessons from Wanda Maximoff and Nick Fury. She has to allow him that much.

He wants to explain himself, she'll let him explain.

But what was it that Harley said? "Maybe he should wait on you once in a while."

So, yes, she'll call him back.

But he's going to wait.

She sits, she gives it time. Five minutes. She'll wait five minutes.

She grabs the book she's currently reading — well, rereading — off her nightstand, trying to distract herself and avoid calling him too early.

"'I never felt glad to see Gilbert go before,' she thought, half-resentfully, half-sorrowfully, as she walked alone up the lane," Grace reads. Then, she stops, glances at her phone. Hardly a minute has passed.

Not yet. Give it more time.

She keeps reading.

"'Our friendship will be spoiled if he goes on with this nonsense. It mustn't be spoiled — I won't let it. Oh, why can't boys be sensible!'"

She stops again, looks at her phone. A minute has passed, that's all. She bites her lip, thinking; she wants to call him, but she has to-

Wait. Again.

Is it irony? A juxtaposition? Is it just a circle? In order to avoid waiting, she has to wait. Why should she, if she wants to talk to him? If she wants to hear him out? There's no guarantee he'll be forgiven, of course, but if she wants to give him the chance to be, then why not just call him?

All of it is jumbled and messy in her mind, complicated and frustrating. Maybe, if they work this out, they can talk about it.

Maybe.

She finally picks up the phone and calls him. The voice on the other end sounds relieved. "Grace..."

"You know, Peter, I was kinda reluctant to pick up..." she says, her heart clenching.

"I'm sorry," he replies. He sounds like he's crying, and tears prick her own eyes.

"You lied to me, Peter," she tries to say evenly. "You promised."

He sighs. "I just... You sounded so... upset. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to be the reason you were sad."

"Well, you are now, so that kinda backfired, didn't it?"

"I just... I had to show Mr. Stark that I could do the big stuff — that I could be an Avenger. I had to... prove myself."

Grace frowns deeply, that making her more angry than anything else. "Not to me."

There's a pause, then, quietly, "What?"

"You never had to prove yourself to me, Peter. Never."

"I... I'm sorry."

But that doesn't matter now. She's going to yell at him after all. "Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Dad told you to leave it alone, and you just — what? — didn't trust him to take care of it? Decided that throwing yourself into danger was the best solution, when someone else was going to fix it, when there are people who love you and care about you and don't want you to get hurt — or worse? I mean, really, Peter..." But she runs out of things to say — certainly things that he hasn't already heard from someone else.

"I know," he replies sadly. "I know. I was an idiot. And I am so sorry, Grace. I'm sorry I broke my promise, I'm sorry I lied, I'm sorry I screwed up, I... I'm just sorry. It's all I can be... I'm sorry."

Grace shakes her head even though he can't see her. "The one time you apologize for something that's actually your fault..."

"I'm sorry?"

"Stop saying that."

"I don't know what to say, Grace. I don't know what to do. I screwed up, and... I don't wanna lose you."

Grace thinks for a long moment, believing him this time, hearing the real sincerity in his voice. She doesn't want to lose him, either. That's why she made him promise in the first place. And knowing he feels the same way, hearing how sad and sorry he is, she's just not as mad as she was before. He makes it hard to be.

And, so, she makes a joke, almost making it feel like none of this ever happened. "Don't tell me you're reciting poetry to me right now," she says, referring to the fact that what he last said rhymed. "You honestly could've added, 'Roses are red, violets are blue,' to the beginning of that."

"I-I'm not," he says hurriedly. "I wasn't. I could. Do you want me to? Would that help?" And he's completely serious as he asks that. "I'll even serenade you, if you want — i-if it'll make you forgive me. I'll come to the tower right now and-"

"No," she says, almost entertaining the thought but knowing she can't. "You can't come to the tower right now. My dad is here, and he probably doesn't want to see you just yet. And my mom's here too, and they're talking, so..."

"Your mom?" Peter asks.

"Pepper," Grace clarifies.

"Oh," Peter says. "Well, I... I hope they work things out."

"That would be the only good thing that comes out of this whole mess. She wouldn't be here if I hadn't called her..."

"Because of me?"

"Because you hurt me, yes."

"... I'm sorry."

"I know."

Peter sighs. "What can I do? Just name it, and I'll do it. I... I need you, Grace, okay? I-I'm so scared that I'm gonna lose you-"

"That's why I wanted you to promise me in the first place," she replies, starting to cry again as she continues. "I was afraid to lose you. I... I lost someone — once... I guess I barely knew him, really, but... I just didn't want it to happen again, okay? And I already almost lost you before you called, and I just... Peter, I can't imagine life without you anymore. I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"I could've."

"You gotta trust me, Grace," he replies earnestly. "I know I messed up. I don't always know what I'm doing, but... if something is happening and I can do something about it... I have to. I have these powers for a reason. I have to use them. I have to help."

There's silence as Grace thinks about this, and it's the longest moment of Peter's life so far. Finally, she says, "You should've told me that in the first place — when I told you to promise. You should've told me that instead."

"I know that now," he replies. "And I know it's too late, but... I want to make it up to you now. Whatever you want, Grace. I'll make it happen."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Peter. Not again."

"I'm not. I won't. I pro- I won't," he replies.

Grace sighs. He's so sincere, and this comparing to everything else he's done — for her, with her — makes it not as big as it seemed before. He screwed up, but he knows that, and it's the first time he's ever done it. And, anyway, his heart was in the right place...

Grace lay down on her bed on her side, pulling the covers up over her shoulder. The sketchbook is facing her, his smiling face laying there. "You shouldn't come to the tower... but a serenade over the phone is a good start," she says.

Peter laughs a little, but he sounds relieved. "What song?"

She closes her eyes, thinks on it. "Can't Help Falling In Love."

Peter clears his throat, then starts right into it, his voice shaky and pitchy at first, imperfect but somehow perfect at the same time. "Wise men say, 'Only fools rush in... but I can't help falling in love with you...'"

~~~~

He sang her to sleep.

Once he finished the song, she sleepily asked him to sing it again, so he did, and she fell asleep sometime during it. He didn't know until, after he finished it a second time, she didn't say anything. He started to hear light snoring soon after, and he laughed and told her goodnight, even if she couldn't hear him.

He went to sleep not long after that, then woke up to go to school that day. He wasn't looking forward to it, seeing as he skipped the day before, but everything seemed to be going okay at first. If he had more detention, that was fine. He'd bring The Fault in Our Stars and try to finish it.

He texted Grace good morning, adding in that her snoring sounded cute and funny over the phone. She texted him back while he and Ned were walking to school, mortified that he'd heard.

'No, it was cute.' He added, 'You're cute,' with a heart emoji.

She sent the emoji that was rolling its eyes. 'You're really sucking up today, aren't you, Parker?'

'Is it working?'

'A little bit.'

That morning he saw the principal, who gave him more dentition, but it was only two more days. He said Peter was a good kid, and he just slipped up. Peter was just glad he got off so easy.

He completed his detentions, finishing The Fault in Our Stars in the process. He started getting his grades up, and he texted and called Grace everyday, one day asking her to officially be his girlfriend.

"Hey, Grace?" he'd said, sitting on his fire escape, looking out at the skyline.

"Yeah?" she replied, sitting out on her balcony and doing the same thing.

"Do me a favor."

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"Close your eyes."

"Peter Parker, if you show up here right now my dad will know, and I will be grounded until I'm thirty — he made that very clear after I told him we made up."

Peter laughed. "No, I'm not showing up at the tower. I promise. Just close your eyes."

She sighed, and did as he asked. "Ok. My eyes are closed."

"Okay, now just... pretend that I'm there. Sitting next to you. I probably have my arm around you, and I probably put it there after that doing that cool thing where I pretend to yawn and stretch and then-"

"That is not nor has it ever been cool, Peter."

He chuckled. "Okay, fine. Anyway, I have my arm around you, and we're looking at the sunset, and your head is on my shoulder, and then I say, 'Hey, Grace?' And you say..."

"'Yeah?'" she finishes seriously, no longer in a joking mood as she really pictures it, wishing it were true.

"And then I say, 'I know... that I'm not exactly perfect, and that I haven't been so far. But you mean the world to me, and I want to make things official. So — will you be my girlfriend?' And then you say...?'"

A smile breaks out on her face, and she pictures it so vividly she can almost feel him sitting right there next to her, a wisp of his cologne and something like cotton — like his laundry detergent — seemingly blowing through the air. "'Yes,'" she says, "I would say, 'Yes.'"

Peter, through his beaming grin, finishes his story, "And then I would kiss you, and it would be the most perfect moment in the history of probably the entire universe."

Grace laughed, opening her eyes. "Second most perfect."

"What's the first?"

"This moment," she said. And Peter laughed and called her cheesy, but even as she argued that it was true, he knew she was right.

~~~~

Ned immediately turned to Peter for advice after he told him he made it official with Grace, as Peter now obviously knew what he was doing enough to help Ned ask Liz to Homecoming.

Surprisingly, he was right; it worked.

Then, one day, Peter and Ned are talking about Homecoming. It's only a week away, and Peter's going even though Ned and Liz will be together. He can hang out with MJ; they're detention buddies, after all.

"Or you could ask Grace, seeing as she's, like, your girlfriend," Ned points out.

"I don't-" Peter starts. But then he cuts himself off, picturing dancing with Grace — his girlfriend — under the cheap, colored lights, a wide smile on her face. He looks at Ned. "You know, that might not be a bad idea."