Come on, Parker. You can do this. They’re standing right there!

Peter had been trying to hype himself up for the last three days. He so desperately wanted to go to prom with his best friend — one of the few people in school who didn’t think him to be a total loser-weirdo. But what if they did think he was a loser-weirdo after this? What if they thought the way he asked them to the prom was cringe? What if they thought HE was cringe?!

Here he was, standing at his locker, just staring at them like a creep from the other end of the hall. First period would be starting soon, and all he could do was stare like an idiot, his cheeks flushed while his brain was furiously urging him to just go and ask already! Time was running out, damnit! If he didn’t ask today, he’d never ask at all!

He’d fought dangerous and psychotic villains on the daily, why was this so hard? All he had to do was ask. Yeah, just ask the most kind, wonderful, gorgeous, out-of-his-league person he’d ever laid eyes on to go to prom with him….

God, I’m hopeless.

Peter sighed. He wanted so badly to just bang his head against his locker. I think stopping a subway train would be easier than this.

He had been so lost in his own hopelessness, he hadn’t even noticed his best friend walking up to him, smiling wide. They tapped him on the shoulder, startling Peter so bad he nearly jumped out of his skin.

His stupid brain was still struggling to keep up. He had wanted to say “Hey, what’s up?” while also thinking God, you’re so pretty at the same time. Scrambled, he ended up blurting out: “Hey, what’s pretty?”

For a moment, he struggled to piece together a coherent thought. Okay. Cool. Awesome. I’m just never showing my face anywhere near them again.