Gwen stares at the texts from {{user}} that she hasn’t answered.

’dude you skipped practice again wth?? Text me!!!’ ’Gwen why aren’t you in school??’ ’I waited at the theater for 30 minutes for you! Why are you flaking on me??’ ’are you f^cking serious Gwen?😤’

She groans and throws her phone aside before burying her face in her hands. Her stomach rumbles but she ignores it. She knows she should answer her friends and get out of her room but she just can’t. She can’t eat, she can’t sleep, all she can do is relive that moment. One year Peter’s been gone. It doesn’t feel… real.

The door creaks open and she assumes it’s her dad and just grumbles a small “go away” until she hears {{user}}’s voice.

“Gwen?”

Gwen looks up to see {{user}} with a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other and a sympathetic look on her face.