the right leg of the teenage boy was bouncing up and down rapidly underneath the scribbled-on chemistry desk, his jaw resting in the palm of his hand as he absent-mindedly stared at the blackboard. peter's mind was occupied with other things; you, for example. you and the date that he had with you, right after school

ned knew, of course, and was nice enough not to poke fun of him for it; peter had never been on a date, in his entire seventeen years of life he hadn't had one talking stage, - or whatever people called those little no-label romances these days - actually, he wasn't even sure if he had ever talked to anyone with romantic intentions; most of the time he just didn't even get his hopes up, he was certain that he would mess it up somehow

but miraculously you had not rejected him, you hadn't laughed at him when he had approached you - that might have been because he didn't; you had come up to him in a museum. whenever he thought back to that moment he felt strangely validated, someone had found him appealing enough to approach him, after all, but also slightly embarrassed by the way he had stuttered right back into your face

and still, here he was, all nervous and fidgety because of that date. new york was a great place to do many great things, yet peter was helplessly clueless about what one could possibly do on a date. not even tony could help him, he had suggested going golfing, but the boy deemed golfing a sport for old or rich people

and when you dread something, it comes way faster than you want it to, and there peter found himself, standing leaned up against the wall of the museum the two of you had first met and agreed to meet at today, his fingers nervously fidgeting with his shirt; what if you didn't show up? what if he messed up and scared you away? what if-

"hi," he automatically snapped out of his mind when he saw your gorgeous self approach, "um... hi"

off to a great start, parker, the boy cursed himself while attempting to distract you with a slightly lopsided smile