CHAPTER SEVEN;
so this is peter parker

RAIN DRUMS AGAINST THE WINDOW IN A STEADY RHYTHM. Outside, warm weather turns sour in a fast downpour. Down washes the sunlight of early spring as it's replaced by gloomy skies and murky street puddles.

Inside, Amala sits on her vanity chair, applying a light layer of blush against her cheeks. She takes her liquid eyeliner pen and in a subtle motion, creates a small wing that meets to the middle of her lash line. She repeats the step to her other eye, making sure they're mostly even. Once she's satisfied, she finishes her makeup by simply highlighting her inner corners and putting mascara.

She takes a glance at her reflection and is met with a satisfactory makeup look — perfect for an outing to the café. Getting up from her chair, she walks to her closet and opens both doors. An array of clothing are hung and stacked together and Amala takes a moment to look through her choices.

It's raining in April which means it's not cold but it's not warm either. She could probably get away with jeans and short sleeves or a skirt with thin long sleeves. She stills for a moment before deciding on a plaid gray tennis skirt, a thin black long sleeve and a oversized jacket.

She puts them on and takes a small twirl in front of her body length mirror. Then, she grabs four gold rings for each hand, a small emerald green backpack (with a pencil case, two notebooks and her laptop), and her house keys.

Amala walks out of her room and walks across the hallway towards her living room where both her parents are.

Her mother, Nada Amin, is in the corner of the room, paint and pallete in hand, filling out a canvas. As a full time nurse, it's rare for her mom to have free time to indulge in her artistic hobbies.

Across the room, her father is sat on the living room couch, pillow and laptop against his lap as his fingers type vigorously. Omar Amin works for a large I.T company and was recently promoted to be the General Manager of the whole firm. This means, his hours are a little longer but they've lived a much more comfortable life since.

Amala pads against the carpet and enters the doorway. She sits against the ottoman and slips on her black boots, before turning around to address her parents.

"Alright, I'm gonna go now." She says. "I'll text you guys when I'm there, okay?"

"Where are you going, Zahra?" Her father says curiously, using her childhood nickname (that means flower in Arabic).

"I'm going to Starbucks to work on my Biology project, remember?" She supplies.

"Alone?" Her father asks.

"No, Baba. I'm working with a classmate." Amala tells her father who has now gotten up to talk to her at their doorway.

"Who's this classmate?" He asks suspiciously.

She answers him absentmindedly, "His name is Peter Parker. He's in a couple of my other classes."

"Okay. Do you need me to drive you? It's raining outside." Omar asks.

"No, it's okay." She tells him. "It's not that bad outside. Plus, I have an umbrella." She adds as she grabs the umbrella hanging against the door.

"Are you sure, Zahra?" He asks again. "Why walk when I can take you? It's not safe."

"Baba," she warns softly. "I'm fifteen. I think walking five minutes during the day is okay." She laughs.

"You know I only want what's best for you."

"I know," she slings her bag against her shoulder. "I'll text you when I'm there, okay?"

"Okay," her father tells her as he presses a kiss to her forehead. "I'll pick you up when you're done. No walking at night."

"Okay, I'll let you know." She says softly.

She opens the front door, "Bye, Baba," she hugs him goodbye. "Bye, Mama!" She shouts across the room.

Her mother wishes her off and tells her to stay safe.

Then, she walks out the door as she fishes out her earphones from her jacket pocket. She plugs them in and opens Spotify before thumbing through her playlists and settling on "Kill Us All" by the Neighborhood.

The song's beat drops and with that, she begins her stroll to the café.

Ten minutes later and she's closing her umbrella before entering their local Starbucks Café. It's rather busy for a Monday evening but Amala finds it nicer this way. Something about the atmosphere of a café on a raining day just relaxes her nerves.

She looks around for a second before pulling out her phone and sending Peter a quick text that says: hey, i'm here btw.

He replies almost instantly, telling her he's on the way. She shoots him an "okay" and finds a table for them.

She settles on a small two-people table at the corner of the café that's near a window and takes a seat. Peter doesn't arrive for the next couple of minutes and Amala busies herself on her phone; texting Akira and her father, scrolling through Instagram and whatever else to pass the time.

At the entrance, a door opens and wind flows through it, sending the café into a little patter of chills as cold air meets warmth.

"Hey," someone says in front of her.

Amala's head darts up and she hastily removes her headphones. "Oh. hey, Peter." She smiles.

"Hi."

"What's up?" She asks him, already sensing the awkward tension that'll stick with them for the rest of the day.

Nip it at the bud, her mind tells her.

"Uh- nothing much. Went to school, went home, died and came here." He tells her in light humor.

"Huh," she replies in mock thoughtfulness. "That's crazy, me too."

They both snicker slightly.

"Oh! I was waiting for you to come. Do you want anything to drink?" She asks him.

"Oh, no. I'm alright, thanks." He turns her down.

"Are you sure?" She insists. "I know you don't really like this place but they have good stuff here. Trust me."

"Nah, I'm good." He tells her again. "I wouldn't even know what to choose."

"I'll choose for you." Amala says. "My treat."

"I can't ask you to do that," Peter says shyly.

"Good thing you're not asking." She smiles at him. "Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" She waits for an answer and when she's met with a dumbfounded stare, she adds: "Enough not to poison you?"

"Y-yeah?" He stutters.

Amala gives him a look of exasperation.

"Yeah," he clears his throat. "Yes, of course."

"Awesome! I'll be right back." She smiles as she walks to the register.

Five minutes later and she's walking to their table, two drinks in hand. She plops them down and slides Peter's across the table towards him.

"Okay," she starts. "So, I got you this. It's just a chocolate chip mocha with extra chocolate chip. 'Nothing super exciting but it's really good."

"Oh, thank you." He tells her bashfully. "You really didn't have to."

"Don't mention it. It's no problem!" She says. "I figured you liked chocolate since I saw you eating some that one time at break."

He stills for a second. "Wait, how do you remember that?"

"I'm pretty observant." She simply says. "Also, it's kinda hard to forget that day. I'm pretty sure both Akira and I had a heart attack."

Peter laughs. "Yeah... I remember that day, too. Vividly."

Amala feels small tendrils of embarrassment slither against her. "I'm really sorry, by the way. I know it's not the best way at a first impression."

"It's alright," he tells her.

Amala looks at him apologetically. "Are you sure? I get-"

"No, no. Seriously, Amala. It's all good." He replies earnestly. "Besides, I'm not gonna lie but it was pretty funny."

Amala physically deflates at his words. "Thank god," she laughs. "I was worried you were still upset."

"I was never upset." He says as he looks at her. "Not at you."

Something about the way Peter said those last few words felt... raw. They lock eyes for a moment and Amala feels goosebumps litter her skin. She feels slightly exposed by the way he looks at her. She can feel a thin blush begin to color her cheeks and she smiles nervously under Peter's gaze.

Across from her, Peter's cheeks have visibly darkened too and he mirrors her smile — soft, shy and thoughtful.

Amala might be mistaken but she thinks she might see specks of gold within his irises — they catch the light every time he turns.

It's weird, but for just a moment, Amala feels the world around her come to a deafening standstill. People turn into blurring figures and noise stops at the base of ears. Everything is coated in a haze, like being in a fever dream of sorts, except for Peter.

He remains bright and clear as ever, the one dot of clarity amidst the fog.

Did he always have those dimples? She thinks to herself.

Seconds turn into hours; that's what it feels like for the pair. But just as fast as it came, the moment flees them. The sound of coffee machines grinding knock them out of their delirious state and back into the real world.

Both teens quickly look away, gazes put elsewhere and cheeks set on fire. Calming atmosphere turns tense once more. Yet this time, it's not bad tension. It's electric.

Somehow, a small part of Amala finds herself missing the way he looked at her. It's such an odd thing to say, considering they don't really know each other, but she can't help it. She can't help how oddly exciting it felt to be looked at like that, by him of all people.

Don't dwell. You're here for a project. Her mind is quick to remind her.

Amala clears her throat briskly but her blush doesn't fade. "Right. So... should we get started on that project?"

Two hours later and the pair have gotten the entire project outlined, as well as a list of all the supplies they'll need. It's a relatively easy project; they have to make an expanded size 3D diagram of Mendel's Gene Model.

They work together effortlessly. With a combination of comfort and focus, they're able to get quite far ahead without boring each other. Along the way, they have airy banter and small laughs, talks about simple things outside of their project and get to know each other slowly.

Seven o'clock strikes clear as the sun sets beneath the horizon and with that, Amala and Peter are finished for the day. They fall into fun conversations as they wait to be picked up by their parents.

Once both of their rides arrive, they hover at the door in an awkward stance, gauging whether a hug or a simple wave is appropriate. In a jumble of teenage nerves, they settle on a quick high-five, laughing slightly as they walk away.

They get into their cars and drive away and while Peter's thoughts are unclear, Amala drives home with a smile on her face.

ෆ

iMESSAGE
PETER & AMALA
10:56 p.m.

AMALA
hey :)

i had a lot of fun today

and we did a lot for just
the first time working on
this so that's cool

so

do you wanna meet again this
week to do the rest?

it's ok if you can't !! idm at all
lmk what works for you :)

PETER
hiii

yea sure idrm whenever is
best for you

i had a lot of fwn too

*fun

AMALA
:)

cool so is wednesday ok
for you ?

i can't tuesday or thursday so

PETER
yea that's okay

AMALA
cool !!

soo same spot ? :)

PETER
hmmm

AMALA
come on

you have to admit the place
isn't bad

PETER
i mean you have a point

i guess

AMALA
come on

wasn't the drink good ?

PETER
hmm

AMALA
decent ??

PETER
🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

AMALA
mediocre ?? 😭😭😭

PETER
lol i'm kidding

it was actually good i'm
surprised

AMALA
WOOOO

LETS GOGOOGGOOO

PETER
🧍🏻

AMALA
anyways.

starbucks at 5?

PETER
yup

AMALA
awesome :)

PETER
cool (:

AMALA
swag :)

PETER
great (:

AMALA
well

i won't keep you up so
have a good night !!

see you around :)

PETER
yup see you around

goodnighttt
read

— END OF CHAPTER 7 —

[ NOTE ]
hello

y'all don't know how happy
i am that i got to write a bit
of tension !!! i want them to
kiss already ☹️☹️☹️

anyways! on another note:
THANK YOU FOR 100 READS!!
that's actually crazy and i'm really
thankful!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

i hope you like this chapters!

stay tuned for more!!! have an
awesome day :)

pearl <3