"SO, YOU'RE GOING TO THE PARTY TONIGHT?"

Gwen was twirling a lock of ebony around her little finger, the look in her eyes one of innocent, though perhaps not so, curiosity from her question. Closely followed was Mary Jane and her bouncing curls, that time with purple woven into the ringlets she so often favoured. Both appeared to be simply asking a question, making short talk as it was called, but one would be a fool to not know better than that.

"Who told you that?"

Gwen grinned, pearly whites exposed in a smile I almost envied, "a little birdie. That's not important, though - what changed your mind? I thought you were busy?"

"I was - I am - it is not definite. Yet." The girl was good, I had to give her that. There was nothing set in stone and only recently had I considered the option of attending the 'party', yet she was already nosing out the information on my details not even yet decided - if anyone was a spy, it was her, for she was an expert sleuth in the making. "I had not decided for sure yet."

Her friend Mary Jane swung into view once more, curls flying about her as she walked beside the both of us. A small smirk flitted across her face, and she looked too devious to be up to any good, making me question my decision to slow down and wait for the duo. "Well, Peter wants you to go."

"Ah, and was this something he told you? Or a lie you are trying to convince me with?"

"Well, he didn't say anything to us, exactly," she shrugged, not losing her smile, "but you can tell - we asked him if you were, and he said he didn't know, but he looked like he wanted you to."

I narrowed my eyes and quickened my pace, irritated once more by the detective duo that always seemed to know how to get under my skin. The matter and question of love interests was a common theme, recently in our conversations and Peter Parker was not one I wished to be discussed most of all, though it was that very same that was constantly brought up. Sure, the only reason the party had been considered was for that very boy, but I had no desire to discuss my business with people and certainly not them. Despite Gwen's sweet support and Mary Jane with her tentatively caring nature, knowing that they were at least good at pretending to be genuine, I had no interest in the concept of a friendship of any sort or liking.

So, I smiled, painting a sugary-sweet appearance over gritted teeth and furrowed brows.

"Look, I have to get to class - I have to discuss something with Mr Warren."

Gwen frowned, "but isn't science your first-period class?"

"So? I said I would discuss something during lunch period," I mumbled, before waving slightly. "Good-bye."

At their saddened, dismal gazes, and Gwen's soft 'alright', my heart fluttered. Perhaps a part of me felt bad for the distancing, for after all they had always been kind and welcoming to me, and the look in their eyes was that of a kicked puppy. Even with how their questioning got on my nerves, they were good people, and useful, proving before - there was a point to maybe proposing a friendship. They also knew quite a lot about the Parker boy, and that was a key point that needed to be fixated on.

Still, it was not like I did need them - I could do it all, had the resources to supply my efforts, and two girls with curiosity filled up to the brim were not at all necessary. I had no time for the silly, stupid little things like friendship, and certainly, there was no real use for mutualism otherwise.

As I stomped past the library, I paused, watching Peter and Ned - who had finally dared to show his face, free of food-poisoning - and their deep conversation about something. I did not follow them in, though I lingered rather long at the doorway watching. It had been considered, but after a few long moments, I left and headed off in the same direction I had been running towards. I could always pay a visit later.

...

"Emily?"

I turned around. Instinct went to a smile, my shoulders relaxing and formally-crossed arms dropping to my sides. There had become a fluidity to my transformation from one girl to the next, and Emily had become a second nature, a split-second alteration to my character in order to meet with those who only knew me as her. "Hey, Peter."

"I didn't think I'd see you here," the boy remarked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, a frown marring the normally smooth face. Not out of anger, rather curiosity, a lack of understanding at my presence. "I thought you told me you were busy tonight?"

"Yes, well, plans change, do they not?" 

I had not planned on going, nor did I want to be here, particularly. The loud music, the dancing teenagers whose laughter stabbed my ears, and the bright lights were far from my idea of a good time. My stomach turned every time I saw someone from 'my' school flail their arms and shake their legs about, grinding against other teenagers and some clutching red cups of mysterious liquids I did not want to guess about - two more seconds of standing alone at the edge of the crowd, and I would have bolted. Had I really an option of leaving, if the odds were not so stacked against me, if I did not have a mission to get around to. "Did you just get here?"

He nodded, "Yeah, two minutes ago. It just took a long time to get through the crowds and all."

"Ah."

We stood, awkwardly, watching everyone dance and laugh and flirt with probably somehow intoxicated boys and girls, not saying a word. I itched to start a conversation, or at least try to say something, but no words came to my mind - it was like the echoing beats were ripping away brain cells the longer I was forced to listen to them. Great.

"Guys!"

Gwen and the always present and casually bored looking Mary Jane peeled through the crowds, making a beeline towards our sad party of three, grinning as they fell to a crashing halt. "Emily! I had no idea you were going to be here!"

"Well, plans get rearranged, right?" I forced my smile to stay, though my teeth felt like they were going to collapse from the pain of holding the same position. 

Mary Jane, who sported a pair of ripped jeans and even more red in her hair - probably freshly dyed, from the looks and smell of chemicals that were barely masked by cheap perfume - looked us all over, curiosity heavy in her expression. "Well, okay, it's great you got to come, get to experience a good Midtown party - Liz always planned the best parties."

"Seems to be."

"Do you want something to drink?" Gwen offered, shifting weight from one booted foot to another, anxious to break the awkward cloud that hung above us all. She glanced back towards the crowds, then the kitchen, then back towards us. "I mean, there's some over here?"

We shook our heads but still followed her through the busy house, only half-listening to the babbling Gwen through back at us, introducing half the party including the hostess Liz - most of them not even acknowledging her, too enthralled in their own business - and to the back of the house, leaving us to stand in just another corner, now in full view of the rest of the house. I watched as Mary Jane parted ways to talk to a girl with green, flashing eyes, one I recognised as Betty Brant from my research before. Gwen, too, stumbled away, joining another cluster, leaving us to stand just like we were before, with nothing to say and nothing to do.

The Parker boy shoved his hands into his jean pockets and swirled his toe against the floor absent-mindedly. He was clearly unsure of what to say. This was not his scene, and neither was it mine and without Ned bumbling around and starting some irrelevant conversation thread, we stood in silence, waiting for something to say - or someone to break the awkwardness.

Apparently, that fell on my shoulders, which made sense. I had been the one to intiate any small talk before, being the one who always seized control of a situation, and it was my decision to be there, talking to him. If I did not soon, Inga would surely have my head, tired of my jumping about with no words exchanged.

"So, um...I thought Ned was coming?"

Peter jolted his head up at my voice and looked relieved. "No, no, actually his parents thought it would be smarter for him to stay home - you know, after the whole food-poisoning thing. School's okay, but, um...yeah, they just want to make sure he's safe. I only came cause, uh...MJ said I should."

"That makes sense," I mumbled. "Do they, um, know how he got it?"

"No, they couldn't figure it out. The bet was that it was some sort of cafeteria food, though - no one can really trust that stuff." He didn't look back down, instead, watching me as discreetly as the boy could be - as in, not at all. "Enjoying the party?"

I smiled a bit at his sarcastic words, a real smile, and surveyed the crowds. "Definitely not what I expected this to be, that is for sure. I mean, I have not gone to one before though, so that does make a difference."

"What do you mean?"

дерьмо. That was once more Emily Newman's chance to scramble for an answer, following up my struggle to figure one out with a wry smile and a semi-shrug, passing off his question to a cheap excuse. "My town was small, tight-knit, there was not so much chance for fun and games like this."

My words came out forced and not as confident as I would have liked - my fault for putting myself on the spot - but the boy luckily bought it, nodding at my words with a curious smile. "I didn't know that's what it was like."

"Well, there is a lot you do not know, Peter." A second passed, and I quickly followed the dark remark with a cheap smile. "About me, I mean. Right?"

"I guess so."

We stood in more silence for a couple of moments, before he turned back to me, a question evident. "Why did you - oh, hold on. One second."

His phone has buzzed, the device calling his attention much more effectively than it seemed I ever could. I took the chance to rock on the balls of my feet and collect my thoughts, but patience wore out quickly and soon I was concerned with just what could be on his screen. Within seconds, his face had blanched and he was frowning, clutching the device tightly. There was a slight tremble about him.

I took a chance to tap him on the shoulder.

"Peter? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay - I gotta go, okay?" Gone was his smile, replaced with a simple expression of confusion and worry, making me grow more and more curious as to what had been on his phone. "See you tomorrow."

My rebuttal died in my throat as he ran away. The boy darted through the crowds and slid through any gyrating clusters, disappearing from my sight. He was gone faster than he had arrived, and I was standing alone in a sweating, crowded room, the scent of body odour and some sort of fruity drink rising above to make my nose wrinkle. Something had happened, something urgent, and he had not even cared to explain just what, making it more important than he would perhaps let on. Not that he would, necessarily, let me in on the worry, but he did not even bother with an excuse; Peter had left like someone had told him his aunt was going to die if he did not show up in two minutes flat, leaving me with nothing.

I mentally cursed the boy and tightened my ponytail. My fingernails dug trenches into my palm, the pain bringing back the senses lost in the confusion. I would just have to follow him, figure out just what was important enough for him to desert me like that. Hopefully, he had not gone far-

-crunch.

At the sound of a small object under my foot, I started, shuffling back to stare at a small dark rectangle barely visible in the dimly lit house. Curious, I picked it up, turning it over and over in my fingers, staring in confusion until recognition dawned on me. I smiled and pocketed the small device, mentally crossing out any thought of following the Parker boy. Instead, I headed through the crowds, but not to go in his direction; to head home. I had picked up valuable information, which meant it didn't matter what the hell he was up to, for this was much better.

As I walked up the street alone, stars dimly illuminating the path, I took out the object, running a calloused finger over the smooth cartridge, victory flowing through my veins and replacing any doubt from before. I could just barely make out tiny scratchings in the metal, markings made by only him to symbol something only he could know.

"Bad move, Parker," I muttered to myself, holding the cartridge up to the street light I stood under, "you should learn to be more careful with these things."

Inga would be proud.

For those wondering what she found, he dropped one of his web fluid cartridges that fill his actual web shooters. Not the actual device, but just the cartridge - that'll be a huge part of the plot later on, so read carefully because there are some major hints dropped towards the plot! Well, maybe not major, but important.

Another sort of fluffy chapter I guess; it'll get crazy soon though, but I like writing these sort of fluffier, softer chapters so you guys can see a relationship grow between 'Emily' and Peter. Please remember that this is not the entire 'story' you could say, as in there are jumps in time, so if they grow closer at a rate faster than you think right, know that. I think it's still natural, but, if not, keep that in mind.

I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you guys like the new updating schedule - because I certainly do, I like getting the chance to share this more and more often!

Thank you for reading!