I hate parties.

How I forgot it is beyond me, but the moment the party actually starts, I suddenly regret every agreeing to come. It just feels like something straight out of a movie. The people chattering with drinks in hand with couples splitting off to make out despite the party having just started, Flash's terrible music taste pouring through the speakers, the flashing lights, and my classic headache from it all. Except somehow, this is worse than the ones back home were.

I search the crowd for familiar faces and try to convince myself I'm not waiting for one in particular, but it doesn't work very well. Every time I see someone of similar build wearing a sweatshirt or a flannel, my hopes immediately rise until I realize it's not actually Peter.

"You came." Liz cheers as she suddenly appears by my side, "I wasn't sure if you were actually going to show up or not."

"My dad took some convincing, but he ended up being cool with it." I tell her and pick at the flannel wrapped around my waist. "It's different than I expected American parties to be." I tease, "I always thought they were all drinking and silly party games. It makes me glad I was wrong."

"Well, I'm just glad you could come." She grins, and I mentally prepare myself for whatever she's about to say next. "Maybe it will give you the chance to make a move on your mystery crush? And if you tell me who, maybe I can help you out."

"Nice try, Liz, but it's not happening. I'm still not going to admit whether or not I even fancy someone."

"You keep saying that, but I don't believe you. Especially since you keep looking around for someone."

"I was just looking for someone to talk to or a place to sit." I lie because if Liz knew the truth—actually, I don't even want to think about what kind of teasing or scheming would happen.

Luckily, before she gets to say anything else, the doorbell rings almost inaudibly under Flash's dreadful remix. Liz gives me a look a she drags me along behind her with the excuse that I 'need to socialize more.'

I grumble at the statements which makes her pause. "I'm not asking you to be someone else. Just—relax and let go for a bit. Okay?" She asks in that soft tones she reserves for when she's really serious.

"Okay," I mumble feeling guilty and ashamed that even a makeshift friend seems to notice my issues. "You should probably get the door now."

"Right," She laughs and opens the door with a smile, "Oh, hey, Peter, Ned."

I swear my head whips up so quickly my glasses nearly fly off my face, and I have to fight back a smile. Peter's eyes widen when he sees Liz, which I try to ignore. "Hey, Liz, L-Lia."

"You made it." I whisper happily and immediately regret it when Liz's lips quirk into a knowing smirk. My mind scrambles for anything to change the topic before it's any more obvious. "Nice hat, Ned."

His posture straightens and face beams at the compliment. "Thanks, it's one of my—" the words are cut off by a crash, which causes Liz to excuse herself and leave me behind.

"So, it's a—um—cool party." Peter stutters and struggles to meet my eye.

"It's okay, I suppose. Personally, Flash's music taste is severely lacking. Kind of makes me wish I was studying chemistry with you guys instead."

"What do you mean?" Ned questions.

"Well, at least then, it would be moderately less painful and still in good company." I tell them and become eternally grateful for the colored lights as my cheeks flush.

"Yeah, studying without you isn't the same. Right, Peter?" Ned interjects with the classic Leeds grin and anything-but-subtle trademark nudge. "He's really missed you—"

"—Studying with us." Peter adds on as if Ned has forgotten what he was going to say. "You always offer—um—unique solutions and stuff."

"Thanks?" I smile, somehow unnaturally happy with the comment. "In fact, I just wanted to say I'm sorry that I've been so absent—"

"Yo, Penis Parker!" Flash's voice rings through the whole house, successfully drowning out my words and making my blood boil at the crass nickname. "Where's your pal Spiderman? Probably in Canada with your imaginary girlfriend."

Another round of the airhorn blasts resound throughout the speakers and make my head throb worse than before. It combined with the insults push my over the edge as I spin on my heels. The look on my face causes Flash to stop and drop his smirk as I shout, "I thought you were here to play music. So why don't you stick to that unless you want to start a conversation about your love life?"

A chorus of cheers erupt at the comment, and Flash shoots Peter a nasty glare as if he was the one that spoke up. I roll my eyes as he resumes the music. "Anyway," I mumble as I turn back to the pair, "what do you guys wanna do?"

"I'm going to say hi to—" Ned trails off as he searches the room, "—Abe! You two have fun." He gives Peter's shoulder a hefty bump with his own that sends the former off balance and right towards me.

On instinct, my hands reach out to help stabilize him, and it's not until he's steady on his feet again that I realize how we ended up.

I'm pinned between Peter and the wall, with our faces so close I can feel his breath on my cheeks. My hands rest on his shoulders as one of his props himself up and the other lingers on my waist.

Honestly, it feels like something out of some cheesy teen movie, but my brain is too fuzzy to really care.

I start to think I'm going crazy. Because I swear Peter glances down at my lips for a split second, but he likes Liz. So either I'm going nuts or imagining things under the intoxicating combination of peppermint on his breath and the feeling of his hand ever so gently on my waist.

"Now's your chance. There's approximately three inches between your lips. It's a prime opportunity to kiss him." ARTI speaks loud enough so only I can hear it, which is just enough to snap me back to reality with flushed cheeks.

"Sor—sorry. Are—are you alright?" I manage through an uncharacteristic stutter.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." He takes a step back to create a safe distance between us and shoves his hands into his pockets. "So—you ready for that Chem test next week?"

A laugh escapes me despite my best efforts to contain it. "Not really, I wasn't kidding when I said my grades and I miss studying with you."

Peter chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, actively avoiding my gaze as he speaks. "Maybe, you—you could start studying with us again? If you want to, that is."

"I'd like that." I reply before he gets too much momentum and starts rambling, "When do you wanna meet?"

"How about Monday? Usual time at my place?"

"Sounds perfect." I tell him with a smile that feels almost unnatural.

"A-awesome. I'll see you then." He smiles with that lopsided grin that makes flush and palms get all sweaty. There's a part of me that doesn't hate it though. It makes me feel normal for a second.

That moment quickly ends when Peter gets that distant look in his eyes that usually happens when his mind has wandered off. I notice his gaze is focused elsewhere, and out of curiosity, I follow it.

Right to where Liz stands talking with Betty and Ned, a drink in her hand and looking like everything I suppose I can never be. I guess it's another knot to complicate my life. No matter how much I want or try to be normal, it's never gonna happen, and I think I'm coming to terms with that.

"Lia, you asked me to notify you of any strange energy signatures, and the satellites are picking up peculiar signature not far from here." ARTI tells me as he pulls up the data, and I feel my stomach sink down to my shoes.

"I'm really sorry, Pete, but I—um—I have to go. My dad made me promise I'd be home early since I'm still technically grounded." I tell him and try to ignore the sadness in his eyes at my words. "Tell Liz I'm sorry I had to leave so soon, and I'll see you on Monday?"

"Monday?" He questions before his eyes widen in realization a smile tugging at the edge of his lips, "Oh, yeah. Of course, see you Monday."

In a moment of delirium and bravery, I pull him in a quick hug and whisper. "Bye, Pete." He doesn't get the chance to say anything before I'm rushing out the front door and activating my suit. "Alright, ARTI, get me the fastest route. We've got work to do."

"Right away, Lia." He retorts before I remove my glasses and store them to let my mask settle into. place. "I suggest you try not to rush. We are still uncertain of how the monitor reacts to phasing."

I let out a sigh and look down at the circular monitor attached to my wrist. "Dad's babysitting system, right. Well, there's no better time to test it."

"I wouldn't suggest—" ARTI tries to argue, but I'm already shifted into my shadow form and racing along before he can finish. His voice fades away as I follow his plotted course to the anomaly and shift back to normal. "Incoming call from Mr. Stark."

Unfortunately, the updated protocols after my 'parol agreement' make the call answer automatically when I'm not at school, and I grit my teeth as I peer around a tree trunk to see my targets—a trio of men looking at an array of tech in the back of a plan van. "Hey, Dad. How's Mumbai?" I question trying to keep my voice cheery but quiet enough to where the men won't hear. "You making any progress?"

"Yes, in fact, I am, but don't think I don't know what you're doing." He retorts in that fatherly tone that seems to be becoming our new normal. "Care to explain why I got an alert that you not only left the party you assured me you'd be at and activated your suit?"

"Yeah, about that," I pause and watch as the man in the beanie pulls out a purple glowing weapon, "I'm kind of following a hunch."

"Analysis complete: the signatures are consistent with the Chitari energy core, which seems to powering the device." ARTI chimes in, and I mentally curse him for speaking when he knows Dad can hear.

"I'm sorry. What did he just say?" Dad practically screeches through hushed tones. "Amelia Claire Bright-Stark, you better start explaining quickly before an Iron Man suit takes you back to the tower and keeps you there until you're thirty."

"How was I supposed to know the energy spike was caused by an alien weapon?" I ask in utter exasperation but quickly fill him in on everything. "Dad, if the wrong people get these weapons—if the people running the trials get them—who even knows what will happen."

"My thoughts exactly. So turn around and go back to the tower. Let me or the proper authorities handle it." I can hear the edge of fear in his voice, the one that seems to be constantly carving a divide between us.

I almost turn around, but something in me can't do it. "No. You promised me we do this together—all of it. I'll patch you into the video feed so you can keep an eye on things, but I'm not just gonna do nothing and let this happen."

A heavy sigh echoes from the speaker, and I can hear him forcing out a pleasantry to someone before he speaks to me again, "Consider yourself lucky there's wifi here, and promise me that you'll be careful."

"Of course, no interference, just observe and tag them." I confirm with a soft smile tugging at my lips. "Then we can give everything over to the right people to make sure they go down for good."

"That's my girl." Dad cheers, and my chest warms at the comment. I slip back around the tree trunk and a little closer to be within firing distance for the trackers.

My eyes trail over the scene, from the buyer who clearly isn't ready or willing for this level of tech, the beanie man with a pushy selling tactic, and his quiet partner who seems eerily calm.

"Run them through facial rec and see if we can get any information." I whisper to ARTI, who takes pictures at a variety of angles and puts it through every known system.

I reach out and fire a single tracker on the van. It settles on with an inaudible click, and I readjust my focus for the sellers. Except, I'm momentarily distracted by a flash of movement in my peripheral. A moment later it appears again, just a sliver of familiar red and blue. "No, no, no. What are you thinking, Peter?"

My heart lodges in my throat at the sight of him—Spiderman—Peter Parker—here at the worst possible time. I make the mistake of asking myself if this could possibly get any worse, and of course, it can.

Peter's ringtone breaks through the relative quiet, and the men immediately react to the noise. "What is that? Did you bring someone? 'Cause you know what will happen if you rat us out." Beanie says as he and Chill both aim weapons at the young man's chest.

I dig my fingers into my palms to keep myself from jumping in head first and doing something stupid. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to a universal thought as Peter drops down into the middle of it all shouting, "Hey, if you wanna shoot someone, shoot me."

Admittedly, I admire the instinct to protect someone, but it doesn't exactly work out for the best as Beanie and Chill both shrug impassively and turn their guns on him. "Sorry, Dad, but I've gotta improvise." I whisper, unsure if he's still watching, and send some decent sized rocks tumbling down the hill as a distraction while also pushing Spidey and the men away from each other.

"What—what was that?" Beanie shouts waiving his gun around wildly with a deranged look in his eyes.

"Just get in the van; we've gotta go." Chill shouts, sounding a little panicked as he hops into the front seat, and I move on instinct to latch onto the van and climb on the roof until I can find a better vantage to phase out of sight.

"Lia, what are you doing?" Dad's voice fills my ears amidst the sound of screeching tires and shouts.

"Sorry, can't talk right now." I snap through gritted teeth as I struggle to keep my hold. "Kind of busy at the moment."

"Ow, my butt!" The shout makes me turn to see Spiderman desperately holding onto a web as the van drags him along.

"You've got to be kidding me." I sigh and adjust my grip to climb on the side of the van. Beanie shouts something to Chill, the former laughs maniacally as a pulse of purple energy races toward Peter. It takes everything in me to keep hold of the van and shove him just far enough out of the way.

Luckily, Spiderman does something mildly helpful by shooting a web and taking Beanie's favorite toy onto the street, where it breaks and disperses over someone's perfectly manicured lawn. He doesn't seem very fazed as he grabs another weapon and manages to detach the web Spiderman's clinging to and send him rolling.

"Lia, get out of there right now." Dad demands, clearly doing everything he can not to shout.

"On it, just need to do one more thing." I whisper as I swing over the side in place of the lost door to the obvious Beanie and Chill, who luckily have their backs turned to me. "ARTI, change firing mechanism to split."

"Ready on your mark." He chimes back, and the trackers disperse from the micro launcher on my wrist and attach to the targets.

I don't waste another second before tumbling off the van as gracefully as I can. "See? That wasn't so bad."

The line is deathly quiet, and I can feel my stomach tying itself into knots with every passing moment. "Go back to the tower, Amelia. We'll talk when I get back."

A string of curses pour through my head. It's only a truly rare—and usually disastrous—situation that I get called 'Amelia' by Dad, which only means one thing.

I'm royally screwed.