More Than Amazing
Chapter 9 - Brand New Day
Peter still couldn't quite believe Flash's stupid 'idea' had worked.
"A boombox," he muttered to himself, adjusting his bag strap as he walked. "He told me to bring an actual boombox, and I listened to him."
It shouldn't have worked. It was, objectively, the single most humiliating thing he had ever done. But… it worked. Somehow. He guessed that the teenage romance movie genre wasn't lying after all.
But what did he know? He was probably a comic book character being read about by some kid in some alternate dimension. Not like he could judge. He had long adapted to and selectively ignored existential crises.
Not to mention that May and Ben probably got a phone call about it from Captain Stacy last night, judging by the teasing eyes they gave him when he left that morning. It was hard to contain the blush rising on his face on the way out—not that he succeeded.
Although they didn't say anything about it, he couldn't help but notice the relief on their faces at him talking to Gwen for the first time in ages.
…And now he had to see Gwen again, in person, in front of everyone, less than a day later.
Great. Nothing to be nervous about, he lied to himself.
It wasn't even the boombox part that got to him, not really. He could laugh that off—had already laughed it off, several times, mostly to keep himself from thinking too hard about the part that came after.
Don't you dare give up on us again.
The words had looped through his head all night, on repeat, until he'd finally given up trying to sleep and just lay there instead, staring at his ceiling listlessly. It wasn't a big deal. It was just words, words from a girl in tears, pouring her heart out to him while probably more embarrassed than she'd ever been in her life.
That's all it was.
He was definitely not still thinking about the way her voice cracked on 'again.' He was absolutely not replaying the exact way she looked before she slammed the window shut, or the embarrassed shriek of a sound she made right before it.
Nope. Not thinking about any of that. He was a rational, focused individual with important things to do today, like walking in a straight line and not into traffic.
Never, he'd texted her.
One word. He didn't even need to think on it, by the time he realized he had typed it—he'd already pressed send. Because his heart took the lead when his brain stuttered, and he couldn't keep pretending it didn't. Who was he kidding? Wasn't he trying to be more honest with himself?
It meant the world to him, even though the whole interaction seemed like something out of a Hallmark movie. Regardless of everything, she was still his oldest friend… not to mention what she became to him in his other lives.
Gwen Stacy was his tragic first love in almost every lifetime.
Did he love her? Yes. But in what way? He still didn't know, and if he did like her… like that, then what about MJ? He pretty much always married her, he loved her too. Felicia? He was probably her greatest positive influence, how would her life end up without him there for her? He felt his heart ache at the thought.
…Fuck, he was probably in love with her too—or at least, some version of him was.
He roughly scratched his chin nervously as his heart was already squeezing in anxiety at his thoughts. Dammit, he didn't know what to do. Those memories had long stolen his choices from him, and none of them truly knew how much they meant to him as well… nor how precious those memories were to him.
They kept him… sane.
He momentarily paused his steps before his mind reflexively diverged away from that line of thought.
There was also everything else he would have to deal with, his responsibilities as Spider-Man, along with his other friendships and constant worries.
He tugged his bag strap tighter and decided, firmly, that he would think about literally anything else for the rest of the walk, whether that be the weather or homework.
It didn't work.
He thought it was a miracle he hadn't gotten Marie Antoinette syndrome at this point.
By the time the diner came into view—a place called Sal's, a cramped little spot two blocks from school—he still hadn't landed on a single conclusion. Not about Gwen, nor about any of it. He supposed that was fair. He'd spent years in some other lives to sort through less than this, and he'd still managed to mess it up spectacularly every single time.
One problem at a time though, he told himself, while reaching for the door. Today, the problem was just getting through milkshakes with his friends without the world falling apart.
He could do that. Probably.
𖢥𖢥𖢥
The bell above the door jingled, and the noise inside hit him all at once—familiar voices crammed into a booth at the corner, loud enough that the waitress two tables over was probably regretting her shift.
"There he is!" Flash called out the second he spotted him, waving him over with a smirk. "The man! The myth! The legend—the amaaaaazing boombox boy, in the flesh!"
"That's boombox-man to you," Peter said, sliding into the last open spot on his side of the bench.
Liz guffawed, "You actually did that?!"
Peter chuckled a bit nervously at her reaction, "…Yeah, I did."
"OMG! That is so lame!" Sally cut in with an exaggeratedly snide tone, "…But, I wish someone would do that for me!" She finished as she bit her lip enviously. Then her eyes mischievously darted to Flash, "What'd you say Flash, sounds like a good idea?"
Flash rolled his eyes, "You wish Sally, but the Flash is retired… for now." He finished dramatically.
Sally deadpanned at him, "'The Flash,' really."
"It's a state of mind, Sally."
"Sure it is." Sally pouted, unbothered, and reached over to steal one of Harry's fries without asking. "Fine. Be boring."
Meanwhile, Harry raised a brow to Peter. "I still can't believe you actually did it. Flash said it as a joke."
"It was a joke!" Flash confirmed, aggrieved.
"You should've specified." Peter rolled his eyes.
"Clearly." Harry responded dryly.
"Hey, it worked!"
Liz was already cackling, and the rest of them were fighting a smile.
In the midst of it all Flash looked over to Peter and lowered his voice, "Hey. For real, though."
Peter glanced at him.
Flash wasn't smirking anymore, "I'm glad it worked," he said. "You've been weird for, like, forever. Kinda nice seeing you not be weird."
It wasn't exactly poetry. But coming from 'The Flash' Thompson, it might as well have been.
"…Thanks, Flash," Peter said quietly.
"Yeah, whatever." Flash sat back, and the smirk slid right back into place like it had never left. "Just remember who to thank at the wedding."
"There's not gonna be a—"
"Best man. Write it down, Parker."
Peter rolled his eyes, but he was smiling regardless.
Then the bell over the door jingled again, and everyone's attention shifted at once.
There at the door was Gwen. She stood there for a moment before taking a deep breath and stepping inside, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
She wore a grey beanie and a casual green jacket. Her eyes peeked at him shyly from behind her black glasses and he couldn't help but smile in return.
Peter was surprised at how easy it was for him to smile, and he quickly realized that this was how he should've been all this while. The tension in his chest slowly faded and he finally felt that for the first time in forever… everything was right.
They stood frozen for a moment, like deer in headlights.
Eventually, Gwen's face started to pink, and the moment cracked apart as Peter's face broke into a smile. Gwen rolled her eyes, mostly at herself, and crossed to the booth with a feigned confidence that failed to fully hide the tension in her movements.
"Move over," she told Peter, nudging him back with her hip.
He moved over, of course he moved over. She settled in beside him, close enough that her jacket sleeve brushed his arm when she reached for a menu.
He glanced over to her from the corner of his eyes a few times. It was only after she caught him peeking did he awkwardly say the first thing that came to mind, "...Nice shirt."
She suddenly… blushed?
Peter was confused, until he noticed the shirt that she was wearing.
Oh. Oh.
It was a Green Day shirt, one of her favorite rock bands. He had heard of her getting into music more after he distanced himself from her. It was also the band he had chosen to play to her last night… during his window boombox performance.
He couldn't help but blush at the realization, not to mention the song he had chosen to play as well.
Last Night on Earth.
A clearly obvious love song.
Gwen covered her face with the menu as her cheeks rapidly heated. Peter, meanwhile, didn't know how to react… he eventually settled on stressed. It was Liz who thankfully put them both out of their misery.
"Okay, what did I miss," she said, squinting between the two of them, "Because something happened. Something happened and I need details."
"Nothing happened," Gwen blurted out from behind the menu. Liz's eyes then immediately darted over to him with a smirk. There were also the others, who were suddenly paying very close attention.
Peter quickly decided to use his greatest talent, improvisation.
"Waiter!"
Liz pouted.
The waitress finally came by to take real orders, and there was a solid few minutes of chaos as they tried to decide on what to pick. Flash wanted a vanilla shake with fries. Sally took forever to decide on what to choose, until Liz eventually convinced her to just mix two flavors together. Harry simply got cookies and cream without much fanfare.
Peter and Gwen both chose a chocolate shake.
By the time the milkshakes actually arrived, the group had loosened into something more casual than it had been twenty minutes ago. Flash was recounting some drama that happened in the locker room from his last practice, and Harry was smiling while taking heavy sips from his straw, while Liz laughed at Flash's antics alongside Sally.
It was, Peter thought, the kind of stupid, normal nonsense he'd spent years without.
Gwen, beside him, had relaxed enough that her shoulder subtly rested against his.
"This is nice," she said, quiet, mostly to herself.
"Yeah," Peter agreed. "It is."
She glanced at him. "For you too."
"What do you mean?"
"You're not zoning out into space every five minutes, or…" She paused her words as she pursed her lips, glancing at his hands while not sure whether to pursue further.
Peter's chest tightened as he slowly breathed out, "...Noticed that, huh?"
"I've watched you for a long time," Gwen said, quieter now, as she plainly laid the words out between them.
He quickly changed the subject.
"Gwen, about last night—"
Her eyes darted to him in a way that showed how she clearly noticed. He looked away guiltily.
"Don't." She said it gently, not sharp. "Not right now. Not here. I don't want to have the big conversation crammed in a booth while Flash and Harry argue about—" she squinted at their table "—whatever that is."
Peter shut his mouth.
"I unblocked you," Gwen continued, absentmindedly tracing a line through the table with her nail. "That doesn't mean I'm not still owed an explanation. I just—I want to actually enjoy today first. Is that okay?"
It took him a second to find his voice. "...Yeah," he said. "Yeah, that's more than okay."
He took a sip of his milkshake, as he tried to settle his internal anxiety. It didn't work.
At least the shake was good.
𖢥𖢥𖢥
Later, once the group had mostly scattered toward the counter to argue about splitting a second plate of fries, Peter caught Harry alone by the register.
"Hey, so—um, random question."
Harry raised a brow, "That's never a good start."
"It's a good opener! Sometimes!" Peter rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, it's usually not. But this one's genuinely not that deep. I just—" He lowered his voice slightly. "I'm working on some stuff. Science stuff. And some of what I need is a little... specific. Not exactly the kind of thing you can find at a regular hardware store."
Harry's brow climbed higher. "Define specific."
"Lab-grade glassware. Certain reagents. Some electronics parts that are usually locked behind, like, university requisition forms." Peter shrugged while nervously scratching his neck, "I figured if anyone might know somewhere to find that stuff, it'd be you."
Harry just looked at him strangely, and Peter braced for questions he didn't have good answers for yet.
Instead, Harry huffed a laugh. "You're asking Norman Osborn's kid where to get illicit lab equipment."
"...When you say it like that it sounds bad."
"It sounds like it is." Harry crossed his arms, but he was smiling. "I mean, yeah. I probably know a guy. My dad's company goes through surplus and decommissioned equipment constantly, and not all of it gets properly logged before it disappears. I could ask around."
Peter's chest loosened with relief. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. Just—" Harry hesitated, something more careful crossing his face. "This isn't, like, a problem, right? You're not in some kind of trouble? Because I don't think you would be the type to make drugs or something?"
"D-drugs? No, no way I'd do that!" Peter said, and meant it, technically. "Just a project I care about. I promise."
Harry studied him a moment longer, then nodded slowly, like he'd decided to trust it, "Okay. I'll see what I can do."
"You're the best, Har. I owe you one." Peter spoke with visible excitement and relief.
"I know." Harry grinned, nudging his shoulder. "Don't tell Flash I said that. He'll get jealous."
"Considering the day he's having," Peter said, glancing back toward the booth, where Flash was sitting between an arguing Liz and Sally, "I think jealousy's the least of his problems."
They both laughed as he glanced past Harry toward the booth, where Gwen was laughing as well—and smiled warmly at the sight.
He turned to Harry with a mixed expression.
I really owe you, Harry…
Peter swore right then and there… that he would not let him down in this life.
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Author's Notes:
If you like my stories, please support me on Patreon, atPatreon.com/theMadLad, where you can find THREE advanced chapters early right now!
Leave a like and tell what you think! Brand New Day was awesome. I really like Sadie Sink is such a great actress, and it's nice to see Spider-Man return to form in live action. ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜
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