The Weight of Us ｡ Peter Parker [3]

17 - Say It Again

Even without my memories, the world kept on spinning around the sun and everyone drifted back to normalcy. My parents eventually allowed me to head back to school, with therapy twice a week now with Dr. Elsie Potters, and my sister headed back to kindergarten. Peter Parker stopped sitting on rooftops across from my bedroom and his work as Spider-Man increased, maybe a way to avoid me, or maybe not. Classes piled more work upon my plate, but the essays and homework was a pleasant surprise, something to keep my mind from circling the drain, and actually, I was kind of good at it. Memories came and went, some real, others felt dreamlike. Apparently, life would also keep on turning. Almost like a spinning top. 

"—Europeans love Americans,"  Ned Leeds was saying in the back row of our shared Science class, while Mr. Harrington fussed around with quizzes to be handed out. Ned was seated in the row behind me, Peter with him, but my ears found snippets of their conversation anyway, despite the fact Clayton was rambling on beside me. 

Clayton threw his pencil at me. "Hey, are you listening to me?" 

My fingertips played with the pencil, watching him. "Remind me, why were we friends?" No memories, not even one, sat in my mind about Clayton Cole. He had stormed the space around my locker my first day back, demanding answers about my amnesia. He got his answer when I had almost punched him in the nose. 

"You liked me," Clayton smirked, threading his hands behind his head. "A little too much. You tried to kiss me once, but like, I had to let you down gently to keep our shining friendship in tack. We went to homecoming together and everything. Your mum thinks I'm a stud."

My mind racked through the black pit in the centre of my head. Dr. Potters liked to remind me that all my missing memories might not come back, but that didn't mean I couldn't create new ones to replace the old ones. "Why do I find that hard to believe?" 

Clayton cocked his head. "Which part?"

"All of it," I tossed his pencil back. "Firstly, you're not really my type."

He faked a hurt expression. "Incorrect. I'm everyone's type."

"Secondly, I was dating Peter the entire time, right? Which rules out the fact I would kiss you. I like to think my younger self would never cheat." Clayton gave a brief nod, considering my words. "Thirdly, why would I go to homecoming with you? Again, the dating Peter thing. Fourthly, my mother would never like you, you're everything mothers don't what their only daughters falling for."

Clayton inched forward, eyes filled with dangerous thoughts. He was the only person that was not remotely offended I could not remember him, if anything, he liked it. "Okay, let's pave out a timeline, since you've forgotten." He jerked his chin back to Peter. "You two broke up for a bit sophomore year. He went to homecoming with Liz Allan, and you went with me. As friends. You're also not an only child now, don't forget that, detention buddy." 

His words sparked a brief memory; a classroom filled with a few delinquents stuck for an hour in detention. He had wandered in, slick edge cloaking his limbs and his breath smelling of cigarette smoke and gummy bears. He had offered the quickest smirk in greeting for me. His calm voice filled my mind. Is it really me being everywhere? Or is it simply, the fact you've noticed me in the background out of every other student in this school? 

"I remember you," My voice was filled with a victory, my cheeks pinched with hope. Clayton's smile flickered for a second, not registering what my mouth was saying. I reached over to him, my arms circled around his neck as I hugged him tightly. "We had detention together! We became friends...because, well I don't know, but that's not the point. Something real came back."