Let's just say that I didn't get asked to a lot of slumber parties as a kid. Shy, socially awkward, and a lack of friends wasn't a great recipe for sleepover invitations. By the time I actually found a decent batch of friends, we'd kind of outgrown that sort of thing. Or so I thought.
"You're coming, right?" Ned asked, struggling to keep up with my hastened strides as we walked to our lockers after fourth period.
"I don't know if I should," I answered carefully. I deposited my calculus textbooks into my locker with a soft thump, then reluctantly turned to face my best friend.
"It's one night, Peter," Ned replied with a harsh glare, quickly moving away from the exodus of students making their way to the next class. "Let Spider-Man take a break for once."
"But I -"
"Peter," Ned interrupted, holding up a hand to stop my protests. "You're in high school. Have some fun. Besides, Michelle really wanted everyone to be there, and she is the captain of the team."
"I just -"
"Be ready to leave at seven," said Ned, giving me a teasing wave as he darted off into the crowd. "Tonight's gonna be great!"
With a sigh, I hefted my backpack onto my shoulders and set off towards chemistry class.
"This was a bad idea," I mumbled as Ned steered his beat-up sedan down the long, winding driveway of the Thompson's extravagant mansion. "And why did we decide to have this at Flash's house anyway?"
"Because his parents are loaded, his house is huge, and it's the perfect place for a slumber party?" Ned offered in response, glancing sideways with a perplexed expression. "Why the grump attitude today? I thought you'd be happy to kick back and have some fun with the decathlon team?"
"I am," I assured him. "I've just had a lot on my mind."
"You always have a lot on your mind these days," Ned grunted, shaking his head ruefully. "The whole Spider-Man gig is really getting to you, huh?"
"It's a lot of responsibility," I admitted, letting out a deep breath.
"Well, forget responsibility," Ned replied as we pulled around the circular fountain in front of the mansion, screeching to a halt in front of the wide, marbled stoop. "Tonight, we're teenagers."
Three other cars were already parked in a neat row, and Ned parked behind the red station wagon at the rear end. I hopped out of the car, snatching both of our duffel bags from the backseat. Approaching the front door, a sense of nervous anticipation rushed through me. Despite my grumbling, I was excited for the adventures awaiting us inside.
A sharp knock by Ned was quickly answered in the form of Abe Brown opening the door with a wide grin.
"Ned and Peter are here!" he yelled over his shoulder, beckoning for us to come inside.
"Make sure they leave their boring nerd personas outside," a familiar voice echoed from somewhere nearby, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I strolled into the luxurious, three-story foyer. That, as it turned out, caused me to notice the stained-glass skylight decorating the ceiling far above, which did little to ease my unease from being in such a nice house.
"Hey guys" I said in a taunting voice as 'Flash' Thompson emerged from a nearby doorway, followed by Cindy Moon and Sally Avril, two other decathlon members. "Flash finally found a dictionary." There were a few snickers from around the foyer, but they quickly dissipated into hidden smiles as Flash's face morphed into a scowl.
"And Parker finally found a decent comeback," he shot back irritably.
"Hey!" a new voice exclaimed from the doorway behind me. In unison, everyone whirled around to see Michelle striding into the house with a critical gaze aimed at both myself and Flash. "Save it for the pillow fight."
"Did someone say pillow fight?" Cindy said, bursting into a smile as she clapped her hands excitedly.
"But first," Flash interjected. "Pizza!"
There was a collective round of cheers as Flash led us through a labyrinth of hallways brimming with sickeningly expensive decor, until we ended up in a kitchen. A stack of steaming pizza boxes lay on the counter, next to a seemingly endless supply of soda cans. Grabbing three slices of pepperoni and a Dr. Pepper, I dug into the delicious meal with my fellow decathlon teammates. When we were all seated at the wide, mahogany table, Michelle called us to order.
"Yes, this slumber party is for fun and entertainment," she began, clearing her throat. "But we also have some business to discuss."
"Thanks for ruining the effect, MJ," Abe groaned in between bites.
"What business?" Sally asked kindly, nudging him sharply in the ribs with her elbow. Michelle paused dramatically, leaning forward in her chair and resting her slender arms on the edge of the table.
"One of our teammates has been missing practices, missing questions, and causing the team's performance level to drop." Silence. I swallowed hard, realizing what was coming. "Peter," Michelle continued, turning her dark eyes towards me. I tentatively met her gaze, an apologetic look painted across my face.
"I'm sorry, guys," I murmured, scratching the back of my head. "I've had a lot of… uh, personal stuff going on lately, and I realize now that it must be effecting you all."
"Yeah," Flash agreed from across the table. "We're having a lot more fun without you around."
"Peter's a valued teammate," Michelle argued, throwing Flash a pointed look. "But, this kind of behavior can't be excused forever. Peter, I'm issuing this as a warning." I nodded, my face flaming as red as a tomato.
"Get yourself together, Parker," said Flash. "Or MJ's gonna kick you off the team."
"I didn't say that," Michelle replied tiredly.
"I'll be better," I broke in. "I promise."
"Alright," said Cindy, setting down her can of soda. "Enough of this seriousness."
"You really wanna beat me up with a pillow, don't you?" Ned teased.
"We all do, Ned," Michelle muttered.
When the last slice of pizza had been eaten, and the last paper plate disposed of, Flash led the team down to the expansive basement. The main room was a maze of mattresses, blankets, and pillows that had been strewn about. Within moments, Cindy and Abe had grabbed two pillows each and were whacking one another with ferocity.
My embarrassment forgotten, I darted past Ned and commandeered my own weapon of down feathers. Hurtling it towards Charles Murphy, who had been fairly quiet thus far, I ducked as he narrowly missed his return blow. Charlie laughed as I stumbled to the floor. Crawling away, I managed to avoid another shot.
Ned and I formed an alliance, erecting a sturdy fortress from several of the mattresses, and it soon became the rest of the team's mission to break in. We held them off for a solid five minutes before Abe leaped on top, causing the fort to topple into pieces. The rest of the team pounced. I took a weak jab at Michelle, who returned the favor with a hearty whack between my shoulder blades as I tried to scamper away. Giggling, I began turning around, determined to land a heavier blow.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Flash sneaking by. A foot snuck in between my legs, and I suddenly found myself in a tangle. Then, I was falling through the air. My head struck something hard, and a blinding pain exploded all throughout my skull as I collapsed onto my back.
My thoughts swam together, a stream of both nothing and everything swirling as one. I cracked my eyes open, and through my spotty vision I spotted a crowd of blurry faces peering down at me. Muffled voices echoed all around me. It was a moment before I began to discern their voices.
"… have a concussion."
"Don't be ridiculous, Ned, it's just a scratch."
"Do you see how much blood there is?"
I coughed, struggling to sit up as my vision cleared. A firm hand grasped my shoulder. I blinked, realizing it was Ned kneeling beside of me. On the other side sat Michelle.
"What was that?" I croaked, raising a hand to my head. I touched a few fingers to the left side of my brow to find it sticky and stinging sharply. I glanced at my hand to see it stained in blood.
"Flash tripped you," Ned answered with a frown. "You hit your head on the coffee table."
"It was an accident, I swear," Flash responded. I glanced up at the boy to see a defensive expression etched across his face, although there was a hint of regret hidden behind his eyes. I sighed, shaking my head in a futile attempt to block some of the pain.
"Whatever," I murmured, waving my hand dismissively. "Just let me get cleaned up."
"There's a washroom at the end of the hall," Flash mumbled.
"I'll help," Michelle suddenly spoke up in a quiet voice, grabbing my arm to steady me as I stood to my feet, and following beside me as I staggered away.
We walked side by side down a dimly-lit corridor. The last door on the right led into a washroom nearly the size of my entire bedroom, and Michelle led me inside. I hopped onto the counter beside the sink as she tracked down a washcloth, wetting the fabric underneath the faucet and turning to me. As she touched the cloth to the gash running down my brow, I winced in pain, shying away at first.
"Sorry," she said simply, trying again with a gentler touch.
"I guess I deserve it for letting down the team so much," I replied flatly. Michelle raised an eyebrow at my tone, and I instantly regretted it.
"Look," she responded with a light sigh. "I know that was a little humiliating -"
"A little?" I scoffed. "Did you see Flash's face? He hasn't looked so happy since his dad bought him his second Ferrari."
"Everything I said was true, and you know it," Michelle retorted. I gritted my teeth, knowing full well that she was right.
"I know," I relented. "And I'm sorry. But you could have lectured me in private."
"Where's the fun in that?" she replied with a smirk as she continued to carefully cleanse the blood from my wound.
"Besides," I muttered. "It's not like Flash puts any more effort into the team."
"Exactly," Michelle agreed, and now it was my turn to look surprised. "Peter," she said, pausing momentarily to look up at me with a serious gaze. "I push you because you're one of the best and brightest on the team. You could even be captain, but for that to happen, you have to put in the work." I gawked at her for a moment, both shocked and flattered at her words.
"Uh, w-well, thanks," I stammered. She promptly rolled her eyes, visibly hiding a smile as she continued her work on my gash.
"Now," she went on. "What's all this mysterious 'personal stuff' that's keeping you from decathlon."
I tensed, and Michelle stopped again, giving me a curious look.
"O-oh," I replied, running a hand through my hair. "It's… well, it's a lot to talk about." Michelle crossed her arms over her chest, her dark eyes narrowing.
"We've got all night," she reminded me.
"It's nothing to worry about, really," I assured her, sliding down from the counter. "And I promise I'll get back on track with decathlon." Michelle stared at me for a second, as if debating whether to pursue the subject further. I held my breath. At last, she shrugged.
"Fine then," she said nonchalantly. "If you don't trust me, that's cool." I cleared my throat.
"We don't really know each other that well, to be honest," I responded frankly. At this, Michelle nodded slowly in agreement.
"I suppose not," she said.
"Well," I said, shoving my hands into pockets to hide their shaking. "We could always, you know…g-go out…" Michelle's eyes suddenly widened, and panic shot through my veins while my recovery instincts kicked in. "Go outside," I said hastily, chuckling nervously as I jerked my thumb towards the hall beyond the doorway. "And get to know each other better. And everyone else, obviously. It's great team-building, you know." Michelle's expression was almost unreadable, but I was certain for a moment I saw a glimmer of amusement inside of her eyes.
"Sure thing, Peter," she murmured, suddenly masking her face again as she sauntered out the door. I watched her go, my heart thumping wildly inside of my chest. One thing was for certain.
Ned could never find out about this.