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ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING
iv. HAPPY ACCIDENT

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   FROM A YOUNG AGE, Riley Stark was 100% aware that the majority of things you see on television aren't real. It's mostly scripted, exaggerated, and filmed countless times to perfectly capture the exact moment as desired—for the most part. Even if she'd somehow made time in her busy life to watch teen dramas, she'd always remembered to take what she saw with a grain of salt, and she'd recall this for all 16 years of her life. That was until she arrived at Camp Mirkhaven.

   Camp Mirkhaven was, in simple terms, something straight out of a made-for-TV movie. Riley wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this.

   For the past few days, Riley had been through countless exercises that indirectly worked as group therapy for her and the students of Midtown High. During the day, stations were set up dedicated to bonding through various summer activities, like tie-dying t-shirts and going canoeing down by the river. When the skies darkened, the campers and camp counselors would participate in campfire chats and make smores.

   Riley wasn't surprised by how desperately she needed those campfire chats. It was all deep talks about feelings and sentimental crap she'd never really learned how to express. Honestly, she hardly ever spoke about her own issues, even to her own family. She preferred to keep it in whenever she could.

   Nonetheless, she appreciated their nightly campfire chats. They gave her peace in knowing that she wasn't alone in her trauma, despite the fact that her burdens were a bit more... unique.

   Although the stations that were set up around camp were a little cliche, Riley was having the time of her life being a normal teenager again. She missed spending time with her friends and making new ones along the way, even if that meant being dragged into things she didn't want to do.

   "You really couldn't have picked any other station to go to?" whispered Riley on the afternoon of the 20th of July, 2023. She shot MJ a little glare. "This sucks."

   She sat in front of an easel, a weathered paintbrush in hand as one of the camp counselors led a painting session. Riley shifted on the uncomfortable stool she sat on as MJ composedly kept her attention trained on her canvas. "You said that if I let you make me do your athletic crap, I could pick the next station," MJ reminded Riley matter-of-factly.

   Riley found herself pouting without realizing it. "Well, I was hoping you'd pick... Oh, I dunno..." she trailed. "Underwater basket weaving... or something." Riley shook her head, unhappily dragging her tool across her canvas. "I suck at this."

   MJ eyed her best friend (Well, MJ wasn't sure if they were best friends, but she liked to think of Riley that way) judgementally. "Dude, you're good at everything. How can you not be good at painting?" queried MJ. She motioned to the front of the room. "All you have to do is copy the dude up front."

   Riley glimpsed up at the camp counselor leading the painting session. He had been instructing the class on something regarding brush strokes, but if she was being honest, she stopped paying attention 20 minutes ago. She was too annoyed to focus on the stupid painting. Riley thought painting was supposed to be relaxing, but she was too much of a perfectionist to enjoy it.

   Riley's gaze trailed toward MJ's painting, jaw agape. "Wh—How are you so good at this?" she whisper-yelled, not wanting to draw too much attention to their corner of the quiet room.

   MJ shrugged. "I guess I'm just patient," she teased, blending the colors of the sky as she spoke. "I'm sure yours isn't that bad. Maybe you just—"

   MJ interrupted herself as she actually took a look at Riley's painting. She paused. It wasn't bad... but it also certainly wasn't... good.

   "...Oh, yeah," continued MJ. "That's not... the best..." She snorted, a little smile pulling at her lips. "I don't even think Bob Ross could call that a happy accident."

   Riley shot her best friend (She was pretty sure MJ was one of her best friends, but she wasn't sure if MJ felt the same way) a harmless glare. "I don't even know what Bob Ross is," she muttered defeatedly.

   MJ's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHO—!?"

   "SHH!"

   MJ and Riley instantly squalled out a sheepish, "Sorry!" before erupting in unashamed, hushed giggles.

   MJ peered back at her again, this time prepared to make a comment about how they couldn't be best friends (Well, MJ would've just said "friends", not "best friends" because... well, you know) if the superhero didn't know who Bob Ross was. However, MJ was distracted by something catching her eye.

   On Riley's wrist was a bracelet. It was simple, nothing too complex. It was nothing like her usual cuffs that contained her suit. MJ knew this because Happy Hogan temporarily took all of her gadgets away for camp. That was why the newfound bracelet was so noticeable to MJ's sharp eye.

   The observant teenager was fascinated by the flimsy thing. Hell, even Morgan Stark could have made something like it. But that was the thing. MJ knew Morgan didn't make it because Riley would have been wearing it when she arrived at Camp Mirkhaven. It had to have come from someone at camp with them... and MJ had a good idea about who that someone was.

   And it totally wasn't because the bracelet with red and blue beads and a black string had little white beads that had "P" and "R" printed on them.

   With a raised eyebrow, MJ turned back to her painting. "Cool bracelet," she complimented. "When did you make it?"

   Of course, MJ knew she didn't make it. She hadn't been to the friendship-bracelet-making station yet, after all. MJ was just waiting to see if Riley was going to confirm her speculations.

   Riley's eyes flickered down to the bracelet secured around her wrist. "O-Oh, uh, I didn't," she revealed, suddenly rather flustered.

   "Uh-huh... So... who did?"

   Riley cleared her throat, suddenly focusing a little bit harder on her art. A wide smile was plastered across her face as she quietly revealed, "...Peter..." She paused. "He... he gave it to me yesterday."

   MJ nodded slothfully. "Ohh, okay..." Riley didn't have to look at her to know exactly what she was thinking. "It's just funny."

   "...What is?"

   MJ turned back to Riley, flicking a bit of paint off of her brush at her. "That Peter made you a freaking bracelet and you didn't tell me!"

   "Hey!" squealed Riley with a laugh, hopelessly trying to shield herself from the bright hues latching onto her previously clean t-shirt. "I was gonna tell you! I just... forgot!"

   MJ scoffed. "I call horseshit! I can't believe you!"

   "Horseshit? Who says horseshit?"

   "Are you really arguing with me about this right now? Of all things!? Now that's horseshit!"

   "Stop saying that! And stop throwing paint at me!"

   "Fine!"

   Riley shook her head. "I didn't tell you because I didn't wanna face the fact that Peter..." She sighed. She turned back to the unfinished painting before her. "Peter friend-zoned me."

   MJ's eyebrows shot upward, gaze softening. "Huh? Seriously?"

   Riley pressed her lips into a line. "Uh, yeah, I think so, at least," she confirmed. She looked down at the bracelet, twisting it around her wrist so that the letters P and R were facing upward. "I mean, it's a friendship bracelet, so I'm assuming he did. He was all Hey, I made this for you and when I asked why his face was all red, he said he was sunburnt. But I don't think that's true because it was raining the whole day yesterday."

   A loud, exasperated sigh slipped from between MJ's lips. "A boy makes you a bracelet and blushes while he gives it to you, and you think he's friend-zoning you?" MJ summarized with a rather judgemental tone latched to her voice.

   Riley nodded innocently and shrugged subtly. "I mean... yeah," she replied. MJ couldn't believe that a girl like Riley was still so adorably and endearingly naïve.

   MJ sighed and flicked some more paint at Riley again while declaring, "Riley, I love you, but you're an idiot."

○ ○ ○

   "Huh!? Why am I the idiot?"

   "Because you ran away like a little girl after you gave Riley the bracelet!" Ned Leeds hollered at his best friend. "Seriously, you're never gonna get a girlfriend if you keep this up!"

   Peter Parker puffed out his scarlet-tinged, sunkissed cheeks. His chestnut hair dripped with cold water after going to the lake for a swim. A towel was draped over his shoulders, but that didn't help the fact that Peter's shirt was soaked. He shook his head, spraying Ned in the process. But Ned didn't seem to care, considering he hadn't dried off yet either.

   "I can't help it, man! She makes me forget how to function like a real person!" Peter whined defensively. "I just... can't think straight around her, you know?"

   Ned snorted. "Yeah, well, if you keep that up, she's gonna start thinking you're not straight if you know what I mean," he commented, nudging Peter. Peter just hit his arm in response. "Um, ow!"

   "There's nothing wrong with not being straight, Ned, and—" Peter paused. "Why am I entertaining this?" He then released a frustrated groan as they continued their way down the trail back to the cabins. "I don't know what to do."

   "Is this the part where I tell you to follow your heart?"

   Ignoring him, Peter continued, "I wanna tell Riley how I feel, but I don't know how. Maybe if I'd realized I've actually liked her for months now, I'd know what to say to her."

   Ned eyed Peter skeptically. "I don't think so," Ned admitted. "Just because you fantasize your big movie moments with girls doesn't mean you have the balls to say it to her face."

   Peter shot a glare at Ned before sighing. "Maybe I should just tell her now and if it goes wrong, we can pretend it never happened," Peter suggested. "That usually works for Betty, at least."

   Ned immediately perked up. "No!"

   "What?"

   "I-I mean, no! No! Don't do that," Ned continued, stammering just a bit. "You'll just... um... make it awkward for the rest of camp. I mean, it hasn't even been a week yet. It's too soon. Maybe wait until the end of camp?"

   "True, but..." lingered Peter. He frowned. "She's leaving forever after camp, technically. So shouldn't I tell her now? That way, if she somehow likes me back, we can enjoy our time together, you know?"

   Ned waved his hand. "Nah, girls like a chase," he explained. "You wanna play hard to get. Then, you tell her you like her at the end of camp. It'll leave her wanting more."

   "...Hard to get?"

   "Mhm," assured Ned. "You just gotta act like you don't like her."

   Peter scrunched up his nose. "But... I do like her. A lot. That's the whole problem here. Well, it's not a problem, but—"

   "I know what you mean," encouraged Ned. "Trust me, dude. I know a thing or two about ladies. Here, ask me a question."

   Peter thought about it for a moment. "Uh... alright... Um... How are you?"

   "Don't worry about it," Ned instantly replied, acting a little bit like a douche to further sell the act he was putting on. "Wanna make out? Not because I like you. That's gross."

   "Ned!"

   "What?"

   "That's terrible advice!" protested Peter. He sighed, posture deflating. "I'm hopeless."

   The sound of MJ's voice coming from behind Peter and Ned caused the two to jump:

   "We've known this, Peter."

   Once they turned to face MJ, Peter's nervousness suddenly amplified once he realized Riley was with her. Ned, on the other hand, immediately exploded with laughter at their appearance. MJ and Riley were completely drenched in paint. From their clothes, to their shoes, and even their hair, the pair were covered in bright colors that would take forever to clean up.

   "Whoa." Ned whistled with laughter. "What happened to you guys? Get in a fight with Bob Ross?"

   "I still don't know what that is," muttered Riley. She rolled her eyes as she glanced back at MJ. "She started it."

   "Um, I started it and finished it," MJ corrected.

   "Which means you're also the one who got us kicked out from the painting station," she lightly fired back. A smile broke out onto Peter's face, which Riley happened to notice occurred a lot whenever she was around. Or maybe Peter was just a really happy person. Or maybe there was something constantly stuck in Riley's teeth. She wasn't sure.

   Peter glanced between them, mostly keeping his gaze on Riley. It was unintentional. He was just naturally drawn toward her. "What happened?" wondered Peter, gently laughing.

   "Well—" started MJ.

   But Riley was quick to interrupt her. "I wouldn't stop annoying MJ. Note to self: never get on MJ's bad side," she said. It wasn't a complete lie.

   "You don't have to tell me twice," admitted Peter.

   Peter's attention flickered over to Ned when he cleared his throat. He could practically hear Ned screaming Play hard to get! He wondered if Ned could, in turn, hear Peter internally panicking.

   So Peter glimpsed back at Riley and cleared his throat. "So, uh, I like the... p-paint in... in... in your hair."

   Riley snorted. "You do?"

   "Y-Yeah," stuttered Peter. Ned reached up and face-palmed himself. "The color brings out your eyes..." Which are really pretty, especially in the sunlight. "Uh... I-I wish I could... pull that off, haha."

   Grinning, Riley's eyes lit up with an idea. "You know, there's a really easy way to find out if you can, Petey," she revealed. Before Peter could ask for clarification, Riley extended her arms outward. "Give me a hug!"

   Peter's eyes widened, fear flashing across his face as he ignored his racing heart. "Hell no!"

   And as Peter took off running, Riley went after him. "Get back here, you coward!"

   "In your dreams!"

   MJ just sighed and folded her arms over her chest. "Those two are hopeless."

   Ned just nodded. "Agreed."

   Together, the two followed after their friends, carelessly smiling at the sight of them running around Camp Mirkhaven.

   They couldn't help but anticipate the day they stopping running after each other and started running with one another.