#we’re talking about the endocrine system and them she’s like okay guys so just so you know: this proves that chemically women are this way

[courviknight]

okay ik i’m in a healthcare course but i was eventually going to have a What Makes a Woman but my god there’s only two ways these conversations go and it Did Not Go……………..

[amastarxoxo]

LOVE DAIRY : DAY 4 : watchful eye (aka stalking)

listening to : i want you - Mitski

the past weeks have been….somewhat rough to almost unbearable.

you’ve never seen a couple fighting so much in your life. every time you see those two is like they are hanging on by a thread of a spider web. you always avoided whatever hallway or room they are in, she never catches you but he does. you were now your way to health class with yuji, when you spotted them at the stairs near the health class, due to yuji talking his ass away about absolutely nothing he didn’t hear you calling his name. you grabbed his by his collar, taking the air out of his lungs, and dragged him away.

“what was that?!” he yelled when you guys reached the other side of stairs. “we’re taking the long way.” you walked up the stairs, hand in hand with yuji as he using his free hand to rub his neck to soothe the pain.

you entered and see yuta already sitting in his seat, with your chair already untucked, he looks almost happy to see you then his eyes moved down, then his face turned sour and turned away from you. after you settled down in your seat. he was paying you no mind, which is good in your books. “alright class, let’s get started!”

each class is about 50 mins to an hour, it’s been 22 almost 23 minutes to be exact, you are sweating bullets, ‘someone is watching me’ and it’s creepy, you watched everyone in the room carefully, but no one is. you don’t want get suspicious of the bastard sitting next to you but you taking it into consideration. alright everyone i today, i have decided to assign partner project. i already have your partner assigned, but let’s go over the details.” he passes out the worksheet, “alright, so i want the project to be a diagram of the important body parts, like the heart, lungs, etc; and i want clear explanation of the importance of each part, what it does, and what will happen if that part of the body fails. now let’s go over your partners” he pulled out a clipboard and starts reading out names.

“megumi and tsumiki; lastly, y/n and okkotsu” you wanted to kill yourself right then and there. your head rested in your hands, “um i..excuse me..y/n..” you heavily sighed, slowly raising your head to be having eye contact with your unfortunate seatmate. “yes okkotsu?” he frowned was slightly visible, maybe cause you called him by his last name. but it’s okay. “which body parts will you like to do?” he said shy or nervous, confidence still there but it watered down. “i’ll take the heart, lungs, brain.” you stated. “alright i’ll take the kidneys, pancreas, and endocrine system.” he give you a small smile.

BONUS : hallway & class scene

yuta’s pov :

another fight with rika, it’s gets boring and dry at this point, it’s always how i treat her or about y/n, i wonder if she gets tired too; cause im tired of this relationship this soon as we reached high school.

in the corner of my eye, i see her. y/n, with her friend yuji, she noticed us arguing, this is so pathetic, the amount of times she caught us and couldn’t even walk past us is absurd. i mean i would too. i just wanted to talk to her..without this one to watch my every move. she drags yuji by the collar, i was fighting urge to laugh, when they were out of sight i just sighed “alright bye rika..” i turned around to the stairs as she continued to shout at me as i walked away, i reach the class before those two.

i untucked her seat for her to have easier access to it, everyone else was chatting it up and away with their friends, i just stared at the door waiting for her. she finally arrives, i shot her a smile and excitement in my eyes but suddenly, my body—or eyes to be specific moved on its own, she was holding hands with him.. i immediately looked away from them, i felt angry. i know they’re just friends but that didn’t help the way my heart felt. she finally sat down next to me, completely ignoring my existence which is a norm for him at this point, just watching her work made me happy, being so absentmindedly doing her work. she started to seem uncomfortable like someone is watching her. she looked around the room cautiously, when she turned her head back i immediately looked away.

BONUS 2 : rika and yuta

◁◁ I I ▷▷

diary readers : @agomeangelcat @yukii-1 @ilovedinodino @sad-darksoul @notveevee

[on-a-permanent-hiatus]

Muted (2/2) [p.p.]

Summary: There comes a time when you don’t want to hear any more. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Ex-BestFriend!Reader

Word Count: 4886

Warnings: angst --> kinda vaguely not sad anymore

A/N:@loserparker Congrats at 3K! @icanalmostbenormalwaitno  this was the best I could do :/ I’m sorry. 

callyourMasterlist

Deafening Silence (Part 1)

The weekend was your favorite days of the week. There was plenty of sunshine so you could walk around Queens without having to worry about gangs or drug dealers. You could just wander the city, and you liked that.

“Hey Y/N, wait up!” You turned, expecting to see the familiar face that brought you a bittersweet feeling. It was like he was stalking you- but it wasn’t Peter, no, it was Ned.

“What’s up, Ned?” The boy kneaded his hands together, nervous.

“I, uh, I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime? Like, hang out for coffee or something like that…” You smiled kindly at your friend, but on the inside, your organs were jumbled. It sounded like Ned was asking you out but… no, that wasn’t right. You would’ve seen something- a sign, anything.

“Well, uh, sure, as friends. You- do you want to go now?” Ned shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s fine with me.”

The two of you walked down the street, him swinging his arms, and you feeling awkward.

“Do you want to ask Peter if he-”

“Peter’s busy!”

“-wants to- oh. O-okay.” As friends. You could go out with Ned as friends. Friends got together all the time just to catch up.

The mocha in your hands helped to ease your tension, as did the direction of the conversation.

“So, uh, how’d you get Peter to talk to me again?” you asked, trying to break the ice.

“What?” Ned questioned as he looked up from his bagel.

“I- I mean, Peter said you called him out… said he was depressed so he reached out.” Ned abandoned his food, confused.

“I didn’t- I mean, Y/N, I didn’t say anything to him.” Now, you were confused.

“But he told me- are you sure, I mean, uh, nevermind.”

And now, you were past the point of confused.  

✶✶✶

Peter was annoyed. This stupid game was taking up so much of his time- it was so annoying. And Y/N… He didn’t need this right now.

The New York air was cold against his suit, but he didn’t feel it. The city below seemed to bustle with life, but underneath it, all, death and pain spread like the plague. So many horrible things were happening right now, Peter realized. Somewhere in the world, a man was being beaten for his beliefs. Elsewhere, a woman was being sold into slavery for something she couldn’t even control.

And right here, in the very city of Queens, there was probably a stolen purse making its way through the city, or maybe, a boy had to walk home with a bloody nose and two black eyes. Ther was nothing Spiderman could do about it now, though. 

The night was over, and the streets were as safe as he could hope for. Men had been beaten up, girls had been walked home, and he was done.

Peter slipped through his open window quietly. Even if Aunt May already knew he was out, he didn’t want to wake her. He pressed the seal on his chest, releasing the material. He threw it towards the bed, and-

“WHAT the heck, Ned!” Peter cried, jumping back. His best friend sat on his bed, an unimpressed look masking his face.

“I should be asking you that.”

“What? Ned- what are you doing here? What are you talking about?” Ned stayed motionless, seated on the edge of Peter’s bottom bunk, as the hero slipped on some loose clothes.

“You can’t do this to Y/N, man, it’s not right.” Peter sighed and rolled his eyes.

“It’s just a game, Ned. She’ll be fine.” Ned crossed his arms at his friend.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re going to tell me? Man, she loves you!” Peter looked at the ceiling.

“What?”

“Dude- she took you back in like a day! You don’t do that for someone unless you love them! Especially after what you did to her.” Peter sat on his chair, across from his friend.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped.

“Peter, she’s gonna hate you after this, you realize? You’re gonna lose your best friend for-ever, That’s- that’s a really long time,” Ned explained, using his hands for emphasis.

“Stop- no, Ned, you’re my best friend. Not Y/N.” Ned shook his head.

“Nah man, I’m your friend, and I’m a pretty dang good one, but Y/N, she’s on another level. Sure, I’ll be your reason to talk to her, and yes, I know you used me as a reason to talk to her, but she gave you another chance after two years of silence. ”

“How did you even find out-?” Ned cut him off.

“Just- Are you sure you’re willing to do this to her?” he asked, one last time. Peter furrowed his eyebrows.

“Stop talking to me as if I’m throwing my life away! This is my chance to fit in, Ned! I’m sure I can do this, I’m sure!” Ned looked at Peter skeptically.

“Yeah? That’s not the feeling I got when you told me you’d never talk to Y/N again because you wanted to ‘protect her.’” Peter groaned.

“Yeah, well that was before!”

“Before what?”

“Before she turned into this huge- huge distraction! She’s not good for me, Ned. I can’t get her out of my head. It’s interfering with my schoolwork, my internship, everything! I missed three robberies in just this week because I couldn’t stop thinking about her!”

“What do you mean you ‘can’t get her out of your head’? That’s what you’ve been doing for the last two years!” Peter groaned, frustrated.

“Yeah, well it was different. She didn’t ask any questions, and it was for a good cause. It was easier to cut her off because I knew it was the right thing to do!”

“So you admit you’re doing the wrong thing by playing this game?” Ned challenged.

“Argh! No, that’s- that’s not what I said!” Peter dropped his head onto his desk, taking a few deep breaths to collect himself.

“So when you’ve finished with your game you’re just gonna drop her again?” Ned asked, voice calm as if he was soothing a baby. Peter picked up a few rubber band to tinker with them.

“That’s the plan, I guess.”

“Peter! That- That’s not allowed!” Ned exclaimed.

“Sure it is.” Ned shook his head.

“No. it’s not! Not for some… vigilante like you! You- you have a crush on her, for god’s sake!” Peter dropped the bands on his desk.

“I do not! And I’m not a vigilante, I’m a hero!”

“You do, Peter, you’re just afraid to admit it! A hero does the right thing, even when it’s hard! What you're doing now- it’s not the right thing.”

And then, Ned left.

✶✶✶

Biology wasn’t your favorite subject.  In fact, it might have been your least favorite. You just couldn’t understand. What was the difference between the endocrine and the lymphatic system? When were you ever going to need to know how ATP energy was created?

“Alright class, today we’re going to be picking our partners for the semester. And no, I’m not that mean, you guys can choose yourself!” The classroom erupted in cheers, but you slumped in your seat. I have to work with these animals?

Maybe you weren’t the best at the subject, but you’d rather take your chances.

“Hey, Y/N, do you wanna be my partner?” You looked up into the hopeful face of Ned Leeds.

“Um, sur-”

“Sorry, man, I already asked Y/N if she wanted to be partners, and she said yeah. But MJ doesn’t have a pair yet! Go talk to her,” a voice suggested. You rolled your eyes.

“You most definitely did not ask me, Peter Parker.” Peter laughed.

“Okay, well then, Y/N, wanna be my partner?” You smiled.

“I don’t know.. I’ll have to think about it…” Peter smiled back at you.

“Okay class, now we’re going to start our first lesson today!”

“Wow.”

“What?” you asked.

“I know you were bad at bio, but I didn’t know you were that bad.” Peter laughed. You glared at him and slapped his shoulder.

“Shut up!” He just kept laughing. “Peter!”

“Okay, okay!” He stifled his chuckles as the two of you walked to lunch. The air was still awkward, you supposed that was something that would take time, and walking into the lunchroom, you weren’t really sure where to go.

“Well, uh, I’m gonna go…” Peter looked at you funnily.

“Go where?” You stopped.

“To my eating place..?” you said, unsure. It wasn’t really an eating place. It was more a flat piece of asphalt that was big enough and shady enough for you to sit down with a lunch box.

“Are you talking about that corner, back by the tennis fields?” You didn’t say anything because yeah, you were. “C’mon, I’ll sit with you.”

It was dark outside. Clouds lined the sky, and they cast a dark shadow on the world below them. It was mother natures way of telling you Peter was a bad idea, but you, like a stubborn child, refuses to listen.

“Ned?” It was the third time he’d sprung himself on you, but there he was, lunch spread out on the asphalt, seemingly waiting for you.

“Oh, hey, Y/N, I was wondering if it was okay if I ate with you today.” You nodded slowly.

“Of course, it’s fine.” Peter gave his friend an exasperated look. And they stared each other down.

“Um, okay, so what have you guys been up to?”

✶✶✶

You didn’t know when you realized that Peter Parker was attractive. But he was.

The thoughts came to you out of the blue. You would be writing an in-class essay and then you’d think, Wow, Peter’s hair is really pretty. 

Or maybe it was while you were waiting for some chicken broth to boil for dinner. You know, Peter actually has really nice cheekbones.

And it wasn’t just his physical traits that you found appealing. His sense of humor was hilarious. He was always there, whether you wanted it or not. And he was really polite. Like pull-out-your chair-and-open-doors-for-you polite.

They were like little puzzle pieces, each one thrown at you randomly until you had enough of them to realize the big picture. The picture of Peter… and you… together.

“Y/N?” Peter’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “Are you okay? You spaced out for a second there.” You composed yourself quickly, bringing your attention to where you were at the present.

“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about things.” Things like how pretty your face is. Peter nodded in understanding.

“Right, well, this is my station,” he said as the train squealed to a stop. You nodded blankly. You liked Peter Parker. You liked Spiderman. You like Peter Parker.

Man, you were in trouble.

✶✶✶

You supposed Ned was trying to warn you. He was still your friend. Sitting with you at lunch, offering to be your partner in Biology, the friendship dates, everything pointed at infatuation. But Ned was smarter than that. He was smarter than all the other children that filled your school. He was trying to protect you.

You should’ve just gone with it, now that you looked back. Spared yourself the pain and heartbreak, and just played along.

You always thought that the public library was a safe spot. It was a place you could go to hide your secrets and no one would ever hear you.

But apparently, other people thought the same thing.

You were on the second floor of the building, deep within the ‘historical religious anecdotes’ section. You were hidden away between the shelves with the books you’d brought with you from elsewhere in the library, a stack of Jane Austen books, with Pride and Prejudice being on top.

“Hey, don’t forget what you said you do!” A teasing voice broke you out of the world you had immersed yourself in.

“Leave me alone, Flash.” Flash? And… Peter? “I’m not gonna play your stupid game.” Yes, that had to be Peter. You wouldn’t miss that voice, you knew it anywhere.

You were unaware of anything around you. Your head was buried in your book, but your focus was on the two voices.

“C’mon Parker, I thought you weren’t a pussy!” You cringed at the foul language, not because it was foul, but because it didn't describe Peter.

“I’m not! But- but I’m not finished yet.” There was a pause and you strained your ears to hear.

“Looked like you were done to me. Admit it, Penis. You’ve fallen for the girl. You like Y/N.”

You had to cover your mouth to keep quiet. Peter liked you? Emotions ran through you. Anger, happiness, hope, fear, nervousness. Anger because he hadn’t said anything of the sort to you. Happiness because you might like Peter Parker too. Hope because maybe it wasn’t platonic for him either. Fear because what if Flash was bluffing? And nervousness because you’d finally come to terms that you maybe had feelings for the boy that had ignored you for two years, and your feelings were fragile.

“Shut up, Flash! I don’t- I don’t have a crush on Y/N.” Your heart pounded in your ears so loudly you were surprised the two boys couldn’t hear it.

“Yeah? Well, then why haven’t you dumped her yet?” Your mind whirled, going a hundred miles an hour, like a rocket leaving the atmosphere or a cheetah catching its prey. What was going on?

“We’re not dating.” You could practically hear Flash’s eye roll.

“Yeah, okay, fine, if that’s your endgame. But remember, when you do end up sweeping her off her feet, this is just a game.”

What?

Some entertainment.”

Flash’s voice was getting closer. This can’t be right.

“A dare.”

And the book was pulled from your hands.

Your glossy eyes were met with a smirking face and a hanging camera.

“Y/N,” Peter whispered, and you looked at him. His face showed horror, but you’d already figured it out. This was a game to him. You were nothing but a dare, a stupid quest that he wanted to complete.

“You really got her good, Peter. Look at her! She’s even crying!” Sure enough, your vision blurred.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t the life that you were supposed to live.

Flash laughed, keeping his cell phone camera trained on you. “Man, this is gonna go viral!”

“You- you knew she was here!” he realized, and Flash smiled.

“Well, duh. This was the plan, remember?” Peter didn't say anything. There were no words to reassure you, no words to refuse anything that Flash had said.

There were no words needed when someone spoke the truth.

Everyone stared at you. Peter, Flash, the thousands of eyes behind the camera. You took it back.

‘Pussy’ was the perfect word to describe Peter Parker.

✶✶✶

Chills ran through your chest. Your eyes stung and the colors of the city all streaked together You furiously wiped at your eyes, but your tears were like a hydra. Wipe away one, and two more took its place.

You didn’t want to cry. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it. But you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t make yourself stop because it hurt.

It hurt that he’d wanted to be your friend again just to drop you again in a month. It hurt that he thought you were naive enough to fall for it. It hurt that you were naive enough to fall for it. It hurt that he thought that your relationship was just a game because you thought it was real.

Two videos had been posted earlier that day. One of you, and one of the game. You were lucky it was a weekend because you weren’t sure if you wanted to show your face at school.

You sat emotionless in front of the TV. Nothing was playing, just static. Maybe it would drown out all the questions that were swirling around your head. A fast series of knocks attacked your front door. You closed your eyes and went upstairs.

An hour later, and you still couldn’t sleep. Music played in your ears, but somehow, the universe wanted you to be sad. Every song you played reminded you of Peter. 

And then, you saw him swinging onto your roof, a sad look on his face. You put the other earplug in, walked to your closet, and shut the door.

It was a good thing that you’d locked the door to your room. The constant rapping of knuckles on wood was annoying at first, but the gentle vibrations eventually persuaded your eyelids to fall.

“Y/N, I know you can hear me.” No, you couldn’t. And you turned the music up louder. “You’ve gotta let me explain.” These stupid earbuds didn’t work.

“Has she still locked herself in there?” Your mother’s concerned voice cut through the thin walls. Oh no. You paused your song.

“Yeah.” Peter didn’t get to talk to your mom. Your sweet mother, who didn’t know anything was wrong. He was guilty here. He was the antagonist of your perfect story. He didn’t deserve a happy ending. “She won’t talk to me,” he said, voice laced with intent. He knew you could hear him. His stupid super hearing knew there was no more music coming from your headphones.

Your mom sighed. “I’ll go get the key, you just wait here.” Your eyes widened in horror. You wanted to go out and stop her, to tell her ‘No!’ but you knew Peter was out there, just waiting to catch you. She shouldn’t have let him in the house.

The next best option was the roof. You burst from your closet, propelling yourself across the room to your locked window. The lock was easy to undo. A quick flick.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Dang it. “It’s not a short drop from this height.” Your shoulders dropped. There was no escaping now.

“You would know, hmm?” There wasn’t really a good answer to that.

“Look, Y/N, I need to explain myself. I- I messed up.” You looked at the tree on your front lawn. Green and happy and healthy.

“You’re talking like you cheated on me. It’s not that big a deal. I don’t know why you’re blowing this out of proportion.” This wasn’t the path you planned on leading this conversation down. You were going to yell at him, and he was going to apologize, and you would probably end up crying but now… well, if your mind wanted to play the ‘emotionless’ card, you could follow that groove.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Your eyes rolled unintentionally, but you supposed it added to your act.

“I don’t care, Peter.” That should’ve been the end of it. He should’ve packed up his things and left you alone like he’d been doing as of before last month. But, no.

“I don’t believe you.” You looked up to your ceiling, your patience growing thinner by the second.  

“So what?”

“So you deserve an apology!” This boy was grating on your last nerve

“I deserve a lot of things! I deserve a best friend who sticks by me! I deserve to not be lonely for two years! I sure as heck deserve an apology, but insincerity will get you nowhere. Realise that it doesn’t matter if you don’t mean it.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, and I mean it.”

“No, you don’t. Because I thought you meant it when you said you wanted to be my friend again and look where that got me.”

“Y/N… what can I do to prove it to you?” You looked him straight in the eyes.

“Nothing.”

✶✶✶

You didn’t expect to ever see May Parker again. You had dropped Peter just like he had planned to drop you, and you thought that was it. It was the end of a story, the death of a relationship.

It had been a few weeks since you gotten your heart practically broken, and the school year was coming to a close. You figured, once the summer started, the dirt would set, and going back wouldn’t be an option.

It turned out, being wrong was starting to become a trend of yours.

“Y/N, the Parker’s are coming over for dinner, tonight! Come down to help set up the table, okay?” You choked on your own saliva.

“What?” you yelled down the stairs. There was no reply. Your mom probably thought it was a rhetorical question.

The Parkers were coming over for dinner. Maybe it was other Parkers. You smacked yourself. Of course not, you didn’t know any other Parkers. It was okay. The Parkers, that was just May and Peter. 

Oh, Peter. 

Was it possible to will yourself into oblivion? To just disappear for a while?

In the corner of your desk, there was a pile of letters wrapped in a rubber band. Each one addressed the same way, with the same bubbly handwriting you dreaded seeing and no return address. You hadn’t opened any. On your phone, there was currently one blocked number. Who’s it was, well, that was pretty obvious.

You’d been avoiding Peter for nearly a month. You guessed your parents thought it was time to end what they considered to be a childish spat.

Why did adults have to be so social? Dinner had ended forty-five minutes ago, yet your parents still had the female Parker entranced with their commentary. “Why don’t you take Peter up to your room, Y/N?” Oh, god.

“You didn’t respond to any on my texts. I started sending you letters.” You raised your eyebrows.

“You actually expected me to give you the time of day?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows, and you cursed yourself for thinking it was cute.

“I was apologizing. I was wrong.”

“If you’re just figuring that out, I don’t know if you deserve my forgiveness.” Peter looked like he was in physical pain.

“It was game at first.” You averted your gaze. Really, you didn’t need to hear this.

“Save it, Peter.”

“At least it’s not ‘Parker’,” he mumbled under his breath. Speaking up, he said, “I lost.” It caught you off guard, the two simple words.

“What do you mean?”

“I lost the game, the dare.” You supposed it should’ve made you happy that he didn’t get to play you in the end, but instead, it just made you more confused. He didn’t sound disappointed at all. “I lost on purpose.”  

“I don’t understand.” Peter took a seat on your bed.

“Eugene didn’t know it was void.”

“Eugene?” Peter shot you a small smile.

“Flash’s real name.”

“Oh, okay.”

“The dare… Well, I should probably start at the beginning. I- I went to Flash’s party, maybe two months ago. We played that ‘totally fresh’ game of truth or dare. And… And he dared me to, uh,” Peter scratched the back of his neck. “He dared me to, essentially, break your heart.”

“You should’ve won by default,” you said automatically, before slapping a hand over your mouth.

“What?”

“Nothing!” You hadn’t meant to say anything. Now you’d gone and messed everything up. Peter’s eyes bore into you like a power drill.

Finally, you gave in. “You broke my heart a long time before that party.” You thought, maybe if you said it quietly enough, he wouldn’t hear you, but your streak was annoyingly dependable. If you couldn’t count on anybody, at least you could count on the fact that you were always wrong.

“Y/N…” You sighed to yourself.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” When did this flip from you wanting to end a friendship to said friend feeling bad for you? “Why was it void?” A blatant attempt to change the subject and Peter knew it, but he explained nonetheless.

“I- I think I have a crush on you, Y/N.”

Boom. He completely dropped a bomb.

Was it too late to go back to explaining why you were heartbroken? Now would be a perfect time to be wrong again. Instead of your brain being stupid, maybe it was your ears this time. Anything to change the conversation.

“What? Woah, I, uh, I think you need to back up a few millennials.” Peter sighed.

“I thought you weren’t good for me,” he admitted. “I actually said those exact words to Ned, and he told me I was being stupid.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, just like to ‘called you out and said you were being depressed?’ You know, he told me he had nothing to do with you talking to me again, so who knows when you’re actually telling the truth.”

“Forget that Y/N, it was a ploy, but everything else wasn’t. Nothing, er, I guess I should say I haven’t been trying to trick you for a while, now.”

“Sure, okay,” you humored him.

“I thought I didn’t like you because I couldn’t get you out of my head.” That’s funny, you couldn’t get him out of your head either, no matter how hard you tried. “Ned said I had a crush on you.”

“What a coincidence.”

“What?” You cleared your throat.

“I said ‘you’re a mess.’” Peter shot you a sideways glance.

“No, you didn’t.”

Raising an eyebrow, you challenged him. “What does it matter? What did you even come here for? Did you think that spilling your god dang heart out would make me pity you enough to give you another chance?”

“Look, Y/N, I know that I was wrong. But everyone makes mistakes, right? Everyone deserves a second chance!” You bristled at the statement. He didn’t have any right to say that to you.

“I waited for you, Peter. I waited for you for two years! Do you know how hard that was? How broken I became? And now, now you come to me asking for a third chance when all you’ve ever done with my love is throw it away!” Were you angry? Sad? Confused? You weren’t sure if you knew the answer to that anymore.

“I don’t know what that was like, and I’m sorry I made you go through that, but if we could just talk about it, if you just gave me an opportunity…”

You could see it now, the pieces of your heart spread on the floor like shards of broken glass. They were like dust, littering everything you laid your eyes on. Small, beating pieces, all crying out for something.

You could see yourself bending down to sweep them up. They pricked your hands, drawing blood, but you continued to gather them. A handful of your heart, broken and beaten and shattered. Some specks were lost in the wood of your floor. They were gone forever.

And then, like magic, they found each other. They drew together like iron filings to a magnet, forming a vague shape. There were a few holes here and there, a couple of cuts and some bruises, but grasp it firmly in your hands.

This little thing, no bigger than your fist, this was you. It was smashed in and then put back together, but it was still beating. Ba boom, ba boom, ba boom. Faint as it was, it was still there.

“Please, Y/N.” You looked up at the boy in front of you.

You saw his heart in his hands, the posture mirroring yours. But his looked different. His looked painful.

At a glance, it would seem perfect. The perfect heart, the perfect person. But if you looked closer, there it was. A growing black cavity, eating at the shape from the inside out. Growing by the second, like an uncontrollable tumor. An icy blue front surrounded it. To most, it would look like it was preserving the organ, freezing it so that it would be perfect forever. But Peter knew, all it was doing was making it cold and brittle. Hard enough that one tap would break it like glass.

The two of you had a lot to talk about You had a lot of questions to ask, and he had a lot of answers to give. But at that moment, you both held your hearts in your hands.

Your hands were still, gripping the organ like the lifeline that it was. His were trembling, like he was afraid to touch it, afraid that it to squeezed too hard, it would disappear. You had received a beating the last few years. He had received a disease.  

You were both so vulnerable. You could reach our right now and smack his offer to the ground. You could break him worse than he’d ever broken you right now. You could- but you couldn’t. Not to Peter, you could never. 

You looked into the eyes of the boy in front of you. Two orbs the were the doorway to Peter’s entire being. They were wide open for you. He’d opened himself to you, and he’d offered his heart. All this as a simple peace offering. 

One last look down, at the beating that rested in your hands. The cracks momentarily paused their destruction. Your heart was what was left of a town after an earthquake, and it was waiting for an aftershock. You weren’t sure how much more it could take before it was broken beyond repair. 

Ba boom.

Ba boom.

Ba boom. 

And then, you gave him your heart.

Favorite Line? Other requests? Feedback of any kind?

[scio-is-a-story]

East 11/24

Continued from West 11/22

When were they going to stop talking about politics? Of course it was nice to see Auntie June and Uncle Patrick, but when Auntie June and Uncle Patrick just went on and on with Mom about taxes, was she really seeing them enough for it to count? And it wasn’t even like Auntie June and Uncle Patrick had kids, cousins for Lilibeth to feel obliged to entertain and have more young people conversations with. She and Amanda had been placed opposite one another at the far end of the table from everyone else, so for them, it was like there was no more company than at the dinner table on any other day. Being kicked in the feet repeatedly by her younger sister was not Jess’s idea of a good, exciting, warm, happy holiday meal.

“Well, little Miss Amanda,” Uncle Patrick said suddenly, turning to face them, “What have you been doing since I last saw you, eh? Any sports you can beat me at yet?”

Amanda paused with her fork in the air. She furrowed her eyebrows. “In gym class at the beginning of the year we were doing soccer but the guys never pass me the ball even though I was okay at that but now they want us to play floor hockey and -”

“No, sweetheart,” their mother cut in, “He means, what are you doing after school? You don’t really do after school sports, do you, sweetheart, but you’ve been doing some other things? Tell him about those.”

“Yeah.” Amanda stopped and ate another forkful, as though she thought that was a full enough response, but their mother looked at Amanda expectantly.

“Well?”

Amanda swallowed and added a little bit more detail. “I’m on the science team and I have to study so we’ll be good and we’ll win the competition and go to more competitions.”

Lilibeth couldn’t help it. “There’s a middle school competition and a high school competition -” she began.

“Oh, yes, Patrick, Lilibeth does it too, you see. Lilibeth was on the States team last year, and they almost went to Nationals, and now she’s one of the captains of their team, and Amanda is following in her footsteps, we’re so proud.”

“No, Mom,” whined Amanda, “I would’ve done it anyway. Lilibeth didn’t do it in middle school anyway and we’re more better than the other teams than they are!”

“And, really, I’m only the secretary, it’s more logistic stuff than actual leadership. The execs are both seniors, they’re in charge.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Lilibeth, I never can remember any of that terminology you use. You’d better explain all of it to your Uncle Patrick and Auntie June, I would get too many things wrong, neither of you would ever forgive me,” their mother laughed, but Lilibeth was fine with that. Science Olympiad was one topic she was fine with speaking about for ages.

“So, basically, at competitions there are about 20 separate ‘events’ the team does. Some of those are building events - I’ve never done those, but the people who do, they’ll, say, build a car that goes a specific distance the fastest. Sometimes they have specific materials, I don’t know. And then there are also study events - Amanda and I do more studying stuff -”

“I don’t just study, I tried out for Crime Busters!”

Auntie June laughed. “Do they all have funny names like that?”

“Some of them have stupid names. Like Anatomasomething. Who even cares about that.”

Lilibeth winced. “Okay, so Crime Busters, that’s one where there’s a kind of activity you do, like a lab, in the competition. And then I think Amanda meant Anatomy and Physiology, which I do and which is actually really interesting, I get to learn about the human body, and this year I’ve been studying the endocrine system a lot which is really something I wouldn’t know otherwise. But overall, study events, that just means we learn a lot, and take notes, and then we take a test on it. It’s a great experience.” She smiled at Uncle Patrick.

“You take tests for fun?” Uncle Patrick asked incredulously.

“Shh, Patrick, imagine how much they’re learning, how good it’ll be for their careers.”

Lilibeth just smiled sweetly, not bothering to pull her mother out of her delusion. Adults were always thinking things like that. They didn’t make any sense. Loads of people did Science Olympiad, and not all of them became amazing scientists, and plenty of people did science-related things that were way better than Science Olympiad, so how could Science Olympiad possibly benefit them like that? Lilibeth did Science Olympiad because it was fun and interesting and social and she believed in her team. But whatever, let the adults believe what they wanted.

“But, like, the point of the competition,” she resumed her explanation, “is that in each event, they rank all of the teams, from first place down to however many teams there are, and then they add up the scores across all the events to decide which team comes first overall - like, if you come in first place in one event, then that’s 1 point, and if you come in second, that’s 2 points, and yeah.”

“I’m sorry honey,” Auntie June broke in again, “What were these events again? Why does Amanda not do that thing you do, that thing she couldn’t pronounce?”

Lilibeth was really enjoying this. She was decent at explaining it, she thought, in fact. “Like, there are 20 different mini competitions - those are the ‘events’ - and the team can only put a couple of people in each mini competition. You work with your partner to take the test - or build the thing, I guess, or whatever the goal is. And the points that pair gets in that event, ranked relative to the points other teams get in that event, they can get medals personally for that and then the ranking becomes the team’s score for that area. And there are 18 people on the team. So, like, not everyone does every event. Most people do like 3. And then you get to become really good at those 3.”

“And your team is the best?”

“Well...” That was always an awkward question. Really the correct answer was that Lilibeth hoped that would turn out to be true.

“Our team is the best but the high schoolers are baaaad and lose-ers.”

“Amanda, shut up. We’ve come first in the state many times in the past. Just because the middle school team has been the New Jersey champion for longer doesn’t mean we’re worse when the competition’s so much harder for high school. Anyway, this year, I’m an officer, so I’m trying to run things better than in the past, and I’m really hoping we’re going to win again. We have a chance.”

“That’s my girl! Although I still would have preferred if you were saying that about a basketball team or something.” Well. Salt. As though Lilibeth needed to be reminded that what she did was considered less legitimate than what other people did. The school wouldn’t give them as much funding, they only had one coach, people spent a lot of time working in each other’s basements or at the library because they didn’t have access to anywhere better. But it was a family dinner with people they didn’t get to see much, so she wouldn’t say anything rude. Same as earlier when the adults were discussing “important political stuff” that they assumed she wouldn’t know anything about, she hadn’t spoken during that.

“But, Uncle Patrick, me planning to win doesn’t really mean anything. There’s this other team in the state, the other local high school, and they’ve come first in the state tournament for the past 2 years. And they were generally second in the previous years, close behind us even when we did win. And we’re gonna have to work so hard if we want to win again, and I don’t know how well we can catch up.” Her voice was rising in pitch and her words sped up, but she wasn’t finished. “They have a lot of really dedicated upperclassmen, who have experience, even Nats-level experience - I don’t know them personally but I’ve seen them at competition. And so dedicated. Plus their juniors aren’t bad, I think they did a lot of the placing at States last year. I swear, even if they’re not a studier, there’s this one junior who has some of the same events as me and it’s really really possible they might beat me and that would be really really bad even though they’re a wonderful person!”

“Are they cute?” asked Amanda, suddenly perked up.

Why did she think that? In what way was that relevant?

“Ha!” erupted Uncle Patrick, “Star-crossed lover or some bullshit, eh? This boy from the other team, does he know you like him that much? Make sure to kick his ass anyway, though, yeah.”

“I’m not - it’s not actually - no, like, it’s just that -” Lilibeth tried to begin, but she knew she was blushing. Not that it meant anything, but whenever somebody accused you of having a crush on somebody you blushed no matter what the truth was, right?

“Patrick! Is that really appropriate language?” chided Auntie June.

The conversation moved on with other topics - there was no way the children would be able to remain in the conversation long, ever, that wouldn’t be allowed, of course not - but Jess kept thinking about it. What had gotten her so worked up about Science Olympiad - why was she so afraid of Jess in particular beating her?

And really, why had they assumed that Jess was a guy?

Continue to West 11/22