one;
who i was.

✱ ✱ ✱

WHO I WAS was never a question I had to ask myself often. I knew exactly who I was; I was Addie, just a normal sixteen year old living a life that she loved. I always felt fortunate and completely content with what I had. Ever since I was a little girl, my mother, Christi, would have me look in the mirror and count the things I was thankful for. She said that even if I could only think of one thing, then that one thing was reason enough to celebrate another day and continue to live on.

I took that tradition seriously. Each morning, as soon as my legs swung over the side of the bed and my toes touched the cold, hardwood floor of my room, I would carry myself over to my bathroom mirror and look myself in the eye. I'd hold up my hand and begin counting my blessings, raising a finger with each one. I did it so much that it was often repetitive of the same exact things, but it was a gentle reminder of how lucky I was.

One; I was thankful for a new breath of fresh air in my lungs. Two; A family that I loved dearly and that I knew loved me back unconditionally. Three; A roof over my head. Although our humble apartment in Queens wasn't much to look at, it was home. Four; Food on the table every night, for I knew that hundreds of others around me weren't as lucky. Five; A good education and a school I didn't absolutely hate. Sure, it wasn't my favorite place to be, but it definitely could have been worse.

After I covered the basics, the things that everyone counts when they're saying their nightly prayers, I would move on to more specific details. Six; My bike. It was an annoyingly neon blue color, for I had bought it on sale at a thrift store and had no say in what paint it had. But, I was thankful for it because it saved me from wasting countless dollar bills on cab rides around the city. It took me to school, to run errands, to my friend's place, to my violin lessons.

Speaking of violin lessons, then came number seven; my violin itself. My parents bought it for me one Christmas many years ago. They'd saved up so much money in order to give me a high quality one. It was the one thing I unwrapped that year, birthday included, but that didn't matter. Music was my passion, and that little instrument brought me endless joy. It gave me a sense of purpose, a security that I could always rely on.

Eight; I was thankful for New York City. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Sure, I always wondered what the sunny beach or the chilly mountains would be like, but I was always quickly reminded that New York was where I belonged by the sense of happiness that encompassed me whenever I stopped and took a look at my surroundings. The traditions, the agenda, the endless opportunities to pursue your dreams, it was absolutely perfect.

Nine was reserved for my best friend Clara. If there was one person I could trust my entire life with, it was her. I'd known her since first grade, and our friendship was filled with nothing but positive memories. I cherished every moment we had together. We were polar opposites, but we complimented each other so well. She was truly special to me.

As for the tenth thing, I hadn't quite found it yet. It was always only nine fingers I raised up in the morning. It wasn't that there weren't countless other things I was grateful for; there were plenty. But, I was saving it for something special, something I hadn't found yet. I wasn't sure what it would be, but when it arrived, I would know it. I'd be ready.

Along with these things, I believed that I had my entire life planned out. My days were based upon routine: go to school, work a shift at the diner a few blocks from my house, practice violin, and come back home. It was simple, busy, and structured. I was completely content with it. There was nothing I would change. I had goals, I had my entire future mapped out the way I wanted things to unfold. Graduate high school, go to Juilliard, and live a successful, joy-filled life. Everything was laid out in preparation inside my mind, and nothing would disrupt it.

At least, that's what I thought. But all it took was one boy, one sweet, innocent, perfect boy, to corrupt all of that and completely change everything.

I learned that fate had a way of nudging itself into our lives, whether we liked it or not.

In this case, fate came in the form of Peter Parker.

It's strange how the world works. My life had been so normal, so familiar, so flawless that I thought nothing could come as a surprise to me. But then I met him. At first, I never would have thought anything of us, but as time went on, I realized that everything was starting to connect and that for some reason, for some beautifully fractured reason, Peter and I were meant to be together.

The beginning of the story of me and Peter came in three parts.

The first part started in a local grocery store. I remember that day so clearly, after all, why would I forget? I was sitting on the white, tiled floor of the toys aisle, hopelessly staring at countless boxes of legos in front of me. I had been in the store for almost twenty minutes, on a mission to pick out the perfect tenth birthday present for my younger brother, Liam. I knew he liked legos, for I was always stepping on the loose ones scattered across the ground of our apartment, but there were so many to choose from. There was no way to know which ones he already had and which he was hoping to get.

My jean jacket had fallen off of my shoulders. I distinctly remember this detail, for I was wearing only a tank top underneath, my upper arms exposed to the luke-warm air around me. Staring at the shelves of toys in front of me, I didn't hear the sound of shoes shuffling towards me. Instead, I felt a shiver run up my spine and goosebumps rose on my skin. It was the feeling that someone was watching me, and so I took a quick look over my right shoulder, only to see nothing.

When my head turned back around, I thought the coast was clear and that I just being paranoid. However, that was until I saw someone sitting down next to me out of my peripheral vision and I yelped, whipping my gaze towards them and jumping a little. My eyes refocused on the person staring back at me.

A boy about my age. Dark hair, dark eyes, a cheery smile. He was sitting criss-cross applesauce just like me, had even gone as far as to place his hands exactly the way I had mine, one resting on my knee and the other supporting my head. He raised an eyebrow as I regained my breathing.

"You like Legos?" The boy asked me as if I hadn't just experienced a minor heart attack.

I shook my head, readjusting the way I was sitting. We were three feet apart and probably the only people in the store, for it was only seven thirty in the morning. I supposed both of us had decided to run a quick errand before school started. "My little brother's birthday is tomorrow, and I sorta procrastinated a little bit."

The boy then asked me what legos my brother liked, to which I didn't have an answer to. Therefore, he stood up, taking a good look at the display before grabbing a box off the third shelf and handing it to me. I grabbed it from him, our fingers barely brushing against each other's for a millisecond. I didn't think much of it at the time.

I took a look at the packaging. It was an Iron Man set and included instructions on how to put together little Lego suits, weapons and vehicles. It was only twenty dollars, and so I nodded. The boy told me that my little brother was sure to like it because, after all, 'who doesn't like superheroes?'. I thanked him and stood up, grabbing my backpack and swinging it over my shoulder, prepared to head over to the checkout.

"I'm Peter, by the way." The boy said as I gathered my things. I looked up to see his hand awkwardly extended, and I chuckled, reaching forward and shaking it.

"Addie." I smiled, stepping away afterwards. I turned around, giving him one last wave before I walked off, thinking I would never run into him again. It was a large city, what were the odds we'd see each other?

Then came the second part.

It was three weeks later. Nothing new had happened in those three weeks, nothing fateful, nothing exciting. It was simply the same old routine, which I was perfectly fine with. I didn't mind not living a life full of surprises. I liked to know what was coming next, I liked to have a grip on the reigns. Control brought me comfort.

My feet shuffled around the diner, guiding me through a labyrinth of tables and chairs as I delivered drinks and meals to customers. It wasn't an ideal job, but it paid fairly well. Enough to provide me with money for my violin lessons every week. My parents had started by paying for them, but once the bills started piling up, I knew that the only way I could continue my training was to pitch in myself. It was worth it.

I quickly ran behind the counter at the front of the restaurant to put in some new orders to the kitchen. Clara was seated at the bar, slurping annoyingly on a chocolate milk shake as she stared at me. Her long, brown hair was tied into two, dutch braids, and her acrylic nails rhythmically tapped against the counter, like a clock ticking over and over and over.

"Do you have to sit here and watch me while I work?" I asked her as I grabbed a plastic cup and walked over to the drink machine, pouring some ice into it.

She shrugged. "I don't have anything better to do. We're spending quality time together."

I gave her an eye roll as I filled the cup with soda. "Come on, you don't care about me that much. You're just hoping some cute guy walks in, sits next to you, and asks for a milkshake with two straws."

"Hey, ever since you told me about that blonde last week, I've become determined to get myself a little diner cutie. Why else would I wear this stupid push up bra?" Clara answered. I was about to fire back with something, but then then the little bells above the entrance rang, and Clara looked over to see who had walked in. "Well, would you look what the cat dragged in. Looks like this is my chance."

I turned around to check out who she was referring to. The first person that had arrived was a heavier set boy with black hair and tan skin. But it wasn't until I saw who was behind him did my heart stop. The plastic cup slipped through my hands, crashing to the floor loudly and it's contents spilling everywhere. Before the boy could turn around, I ducked down behind the counter.

"What the hell?" Clara said, leaning over to look at me, squinting her eyes.

"Sorry, I-I just—" I pulled reached up and grabbed a dish towel, throwing it on the floor and began cleaning up the mess I'd made, still staying hidden. "Clara, that's him."

"The blonde? Did he dye his hair?" She cluelessly asked.

"No! The one from the store I was telling you about." I whispered, wishing she would keep her voice down.

"Oh! Right. Wow, he's a cutie. Your babies will be adorable," Her eyes lit up and she took a second look. She then smiled mischievously and stood up from her seat. "I'll be right back."

"What? Where are you going?!" I hissed.

She didn't answer, and I peeked over the counter to see her making her way to where Peter and his friend were seated. She began chatting it up with them, and the two boys looked extremely confused. But, Clara had a knack for flirting, and it wasn't long until she was taking a seat next to Peter's friend as if they'd known each other for years.

I was planning on staying on the floor for the entirety of their stay, but I was soon met with the angry tone of my manager telling me to get up and go serve table seven which, lo and behold, was the table Clara had taken a seat at.

I dusted off my apron and grabbed my pen and notepad, tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear as I nervously made my way towards their table. Clara spotted me out of the corner of her eye, smirking to herself. I tried to swallow my frustrations, clearing my throat once I reached the group.

Peter's eyes looked up, instantly falling on mine, and I suddenly felt flustered. I opened my mouth to speak, trying to act as confident as possible. "Hey guys, welcome to Ace's. My name is Addie—" I paused for half a second and saw Peter's lips slightly curl upwards. "—and I'll be taking care of you today. Can I get you started with some drinks?"

The three of them put in their orders, Clara asking for her third milkshake of the day, and I nodded, turning on my heel and hurrying over to the counter again. As I walked away, I heard Peter's friend ask him, "Wait, is that her?"

"That's her."

I pursed my lips, trying not to smile and act like I wasn't listening as I began fixing their drinks, scooping ice into the boys' cups. I glanced back up and saw all three of them were staring at me, Peter's head looking over his shoulder. He quickly whipped back around once I looked at him, and Clara gave me a wink.

I turned around to face the drink machine, letting out a deep breath, trying to slow down my speeding heart. I resisted the urge to look back at them.

However, what I failed to see was Clara pulling a pen out of her backpack and reaching for a napkin, scribbling down my full name and number and sliding it across the table to Peter

That's what changed everything, for the third part came the following day when I was in the middle of study hall.

A simple text message from an unknown number.

hey, it's peter. is this addie?

That's all it took. Two chance meetings and one casual text message. That's how it all began.

It was all so innocent at the time.

If only it could have stayed that way. If it had, maybe I wouldn't have ended up where I am now, on the edge of life and death, a single choice in my hand deciding my entire destiny. Somehow, things got so twisted and corrupted, if I could do it all over again, maybe I would have just deleted the text message, blocked the number, and forgotten anything ever happened.

But that's not how it happened.

That was the beginning. This is the end.

Or at least, it could be.