For 30+ Advance/Early chapters :p
atreon.com/ScoldeyJod
Peter woke up feeling like he'd been run over by a truck. He hadn't. He'd checked. His patrol the night before had been blessedly, boringly quiet. The exhaustion was purely emotional. He'd spent hours tossing and turning, his mind replaying the walk home, the elevator ride, and the silent, charged moment outside her door on an infinite loop.
His brain had helpfully compiled a list of all the stupid things he'd done and said. The highlight reel included: stammering about her grip strength, calling pancakes a "system," and staring at her mouth with the subtlety of a starving man looking at a steak.
He groaned and rolled out of bed. He had a 9 a.m. chemistry lab. He had to leave his room. Which meant he had to walk down the hall. Past room 4J.
Okay, Parker. Operation: Be a Normal Human Being is a go. The plan was simple: slip out, make no noise, and be gone before she even knew he was awake. He pulled on a hoodie, grabbed his backpack, and opened his door with the stealth of a cat burglar.
The hallway was empty. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He took two steps toward the elevators, and the door to 4J clicked open.
Abort mission! Abort! his brain screamed.
Diana stepped out, looking infuriatingly perfect. She was dressed in athletic leggings and a simple grey t-shirt, her hair pulled into a high, severe ponytail. She wasn't carrying any books, just a small gym bag. She was probably on her way to do something impressive, like bench-pressing a car.
She saw him, and for a split second, her composure wavered. A flicker of something—surprise? nervousness?—crossed her face before it was replaced by her usual serene calm.
"Good morning, Peter," she said, her voice smooth and even.
"Morning, Diana," he replied, his own voice coming out as a slight squeak. He cleared his throat. "Off to... work out?"
"Something like that," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Physical clarity helps with mental clarity. You are headed to class?"
"Chem lab," he said, holding up his textbook as if for proof. "Gotta go... mix things. Hopefully without causing an explosion." Why did I say that?
An awkward silence descended, thick and heavy. Last night, they had effortlessly filled the silence. This morning, it was an impassable chasm. He could feel the memory of their hands touching hanging in the air between them.
"Well," he finally said, pointing a thumb towards the elevator. "I should..."
"Yes," she agreed, nodding. "You should."
They walked to the elevator together, the silence stretching. The ride down was excruciating. Peter stared intently at the floor numbers as they lit up, as if they held the secrets to the universe. He was intensely aware of her standing next to him, of the clean, fresh scent of soap, of the sheer, solid presence of her. It was like standing next to a dormant volcano.
When the doors opened on the ground floor, they both moved at the same time and nearly collided.
"Sorry," they said in unison.
Peter jumped back as if he'd been shocked. "You go."
"After you," she insisted.
They managed to exit the elevator without further incident and stood in the lobby, the morning sun streaming through the large windows.
"I am heading this way," Diana said, gesturing towards the campus athletic center.
"Right. Labs are that way for me," Peter said, pointing in the opposite direction. "So... I'll see you later? Maybe? For studying?"
The question hung in the air. Was that still a thing?
Diana's expression softened. "Yes," she said, her voice losing its formal edge. "I would like that. The library, after your classes?"
A wave of relief so powerful it almost made him dizzy washed over Peter. "Yeah. Library. Sounds great."
She gave him a small, genuine smile before turning and walking away, her stride long and confident. Peter watched her go, his heart doing a frantic, stupid rhythm in his chest. Operation: Be a Normal Human Being had been a spectacular failure.
That afternoon, they found a quiet table outside, near the university's botanical gardens. The air was crisp with the scent of autumn leaves. They both seemed to tacitly agree that the enclosed, intimate space of the library was too much to handle.
For a while, it almost felt normal. They talked about their classes. Peter complained about his lab partner who nearly bleached his own eyebrows off. Diana spoke about a fascinating lecture on the differing accounts of the Trojan War. The tension between them eased, simmering down into a comfortable warmth.
Peter was in the middle of explaining a particularly tricky formula when a chorus of sirens suddenly erupted from the city streets beyond the campus walls. It wasn't one or two; it was a dozen, a frantic, screaming convergence of police cars and ambulances.
Every student at the nearby tables pulled out their phones, their faces illuminated by the screens. Peter's phone buzzed in his pocket with a news alert. He pulled it out.
"BREAKING: Multi-vehicle pile-up and reported explosion on the Brooklyn Bridge. Authorities urge citizens to stay clear of the area."
A cold knot formed in Peter's stomach. It was the feeling he'd come to know too well. The call to action. He looked up at Diana, a pre-rehearsed excuse already on his lips.
But he stopped. The look on her face wasn't one of casual student curiosity. Her serene expression was gone, replaced by a razor-sharp focus. Her blue eyes were fixed in the direction of the sirens, her jaw set. She wasn't just listening to the noise; she was analyzing it. In that moment, she didn't look like a history student. She looked like a soldier hearing the call to battle.
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at it, her expression hardening.
"I have to go," she said, her voice suddenly clipped and distant as she began packing her books with an efficient haste.
"Yeah, me too," Peter said, his own mind racing. He needed to get there. Now. "My aunt. She—she needed me to run an errand for her. In Brooklyn, actually. What a coincidence." The lie felt clumsy and stupid on his tongue.
Diana didn't question it. She was already standing, her bag slung over her shoulder. "There is a family matter I must attend to. An urgent one." Her eyes met his, and for a second, he saw a flicker of regret. "I am sorry to cut this short."
"No, don't worry about it," he said, standing as well. "Family first."
"Be safe, Peter," she said, her gaze intense.
"You too, Diana."
And with that, they turned and walked away in opposite directions, each with a secret, urgent purpose. As Peter broke into a jog, heading for the nearest alleyway to change, a single, troubling thought cut through his adrenaline.
Lying to his aunt was second nature. It was a necessary evil to protect her. But lying to Diana... that felt different. It felt wrong. And he had a sinking feeling it was something he was going to have to get used to.