Peter Parker

The morning bell echoed through the hallways of Midtown High as students shuffled to their first classes. In the back row of his English classroom, Peter sat slouched, flipping through his notebook waiting for the next bell to ring.

That was until the door opened, and the teacher walked in, followed by someone unfamiliar.

You stood at the front, his hair slightly tousled, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. His eyes scanned the room with a mix of confidence and hesitation. Peter felt his breath catch—there was something magnetic about you, something different from the people Peter had grown up with his whole life.

“You can take the empty seat over there,” Mr. Harrington said, gesturing to the spot next to Peter.

As you made his way over, Peter tried to focus on anything but the growing nervousness in his chest. When you slid into the seat beside him, Peter glanced over, offering a shy smile.

“Hey...” Peter said, his voice quieter than he intended.