Chapter Text
"Can you please shut the fuck up?"
Felicia Hardy sat across from Peter Parker in the library of ESU. The two split, ending things on a bad note. The two grew a "mild" disliking for each other over time.
"I don't know, Parker? Can I?" Felicia cheekily said, continuing to text on her phone. The clicking from her acrylic nails was what was annoying Peter. At this point, she wasn't texting anyone. She was just doing it to annoy him.
"Alright, may you please shut the fuck up? It's kinda hard to concentrate over all the clacking." he said, trying to work on their project. Yes, they were working on a project together. Their split happened somewhat recent. Weeks to a couple months ago. And, since they were together at that time, they were lab partners. Couldn't change who they worked with halfway through the semester.
It was a living hell for the both of them.
Felicia looked up from her phone screen, it being shut off she just rested it on her lap. "Oh? I'm sorry, I'll try to make less noise." she said, picking her phone back up and continuing to fake text. But even louder than before.
Peter paused, exhaling deeply. "We're supposed to be working on this together," he said, looking up, "and who the hell are you even texting?" He tried to peer over-top of her phone, to get a look at her screen. But she moved it before he could see.
"One, a group chat. And two, since when was who I'm texting your business?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. "It's not my business, but we're supposed to be working on this—" Felicia sighed, cutting him off. "Together. I know, I know. But you know I hate you."
Peter glared, rolling his eyes. "And i hate you too. But, it's kind of a stupid reason to not help. We both want to pass, right?" She grabbed the page after he spoke, looking at it. "You spelled iron trisulfide wrong. And the crossing isn't correct." she said after a minute.
"What do you mean? I have it right." he said, confusion hitting him. He was the chemistry genius, not her. She turned to page to him and pointed at the question. "That says it's iron three. However, you still spelled it iron disulfide. And the crossing itself is wrong too."
He stared at the page, seeing his mistakes and not wanting to claim she is right. He knows she's right though. "Okay? Maybe I was looking at the wrong question." He took his eraser and erased it. Her chuckling as she watched. "When did I become smarter than you? I thought art was my thing, maybe I should be a chemist."
Peter rewrote the answers, not going to look up at her. "Oh, really?" Peter slid the page over in front of her, looking up. "Then finish the work." A smirked appeared on his face, Felicia yanking the pencil from his hand. "Fine."
Felicia finished the questions, sliding the page back over to him. He glanced over it. "You used the wrong roman numeral for ferric nitride." He said, taking the pencil back from her. "Okay? But the rest are right." she said, a smug smile on her face.
"Yeah, but there were two questions left when I gave you the page." Peter said, knowing he had probably hit one of her nerves. Felicia flipped him the bird, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. We're done then, I'm going back to my dorm." She stood up, grabbing her bag and walking out. Peter still sat at the table.
To say there was any hope for them rekindling their love for each other, one would be lying. But, they both have no clear reason to hate each other. Felicia and Peter had both loved each other. Their relationship was fine. Maybe it was his snarky comment about her dad being "too strict" or her mom being "too nice". But Felicia couldn't pin point the exact thing that made her hate him.
Maybe they did it for the fun of it. For the stares they would get in the library when arguing. Or, possibly they just thought it was a game. That the first person to be nice lost and the other would get— nothing. Bragging rights, maybe.
Peter could see why Felicia would do it as a game. She was born that way, raised that way. She always wanted to be the best and not let anyone stand a chance. He still remembers how many sleepless nights she spent working on a project that would get her into the arts program.
"Felicia, you need sleep." He said, standing in her room at two in the morning. "Can't, the deadline is next Friday and I want this to be the best thing they've ever seen." She said, not once did she look up at him.
Actually, that was why they broke up. Or, at least that was what Felicia thought was the reason.
Her constant need to be better than everyone. However, they both still had no reason to hate each other.
Felicia got to her dorm, throwing her bag on the ground and taking her shoes off. She immediately sat onto the couch and rested her feet up onto the coffee table. Before she could even start doing anything, her phone started to ring.
"Hey Mom." Felicia answered, waiting for her mother's voice to respond. "Felicia, dear. How are you?" She heard, grabbing the remote. "I'm fine, Mom. You?"
"Stressed, your father isn't very cooperative with packing." Her mother said, Felicia turning on the T.V.. She tried thinking as to why her parents would be packing. What event was she missing. "Why are you two packing?" she asked, very curious at this point.
"Don't tell me you've already forgotten, Felicia?" She listened to the words, puzzled. "What do you mean, Mom? Forgotten what?" Felicia heard a sigh, followed by her mother's voice. "Your uncle's wedding. It's in two weeks, they wanted us there a week early."
Felicia's eyes widened as she sat up, the wedding. Of course that was what she had forgotten. "Oh, shit. I've been too busy with school, I totally forgot. I'm sorry." She stood up, rushing to her closet to grab a suitcase.
"Don't tell me Peter forgot too?" She heard through her phone. Felicia nearly choked on her own saliva. "Excuse me?" she managed to make out without choking again. "He's your date, you told us when we got the invite that he'd be coming with us."
Felicia stood in her spot, trying to figure out why in the world her mother would be telling her that Peter Parker, her ex-boyfriend, was her date to her uncles wedding. "Uh, I think he's forgotten. He doesn't have to come though."
Her mother sighed, sounding a bit angrier than usual. "Felicia, your uncle was excited to meet your boyfriend. He's coming and that's final. No getting your way out of it." That was when it hit her. Felicia never told her parents about the split. Her parents had no clue they weren't together.
"Uh, fine. Whatever. How are he and I even getting there?" she asked, kicking her suitcase in frustration. "You two go to the same school. You both can drive, it'll take a week to get from New York to Los Angeles with pit stops, sightseeing and hotels and that. We know you two, you'll want to stop for hours. Now, start packing and remind him." Before Felicia could say anything else, her mother hung up.
"Great. Just fucking great." She said aloud, kicking her suitcase even harder. "I don't want to call him. I don't want anything to do with him." Felicia walked over to her bed, sitting down and sighing.
Over the next five minutes, she contemplated whether or not she should tell Peter. After those five minutes, she decided to. Dialing his number, she waited. Looking at her nails and speaking to herself. "I swear, if he doesn't answer me--"
"Why are you calling me?" She heard on the other end of the line. "Oh. You actually picked up. Okay, I don't know why I still have your number." she said, already trying to stay off the topic of the call. "We're lab partners, dipshit." Peter said, earning a scoff to come out of Felicia's mouth.
"Fuck you, first off. Second off, I hate my parents," she said, sighing heavily, "do you remember when we were together and my uncle invited me to his wedding?" Felicia waited for an answer, but there was nothing but silence. "Hello? Assface, you there?"
"Yeah, I was trying to remember. But I swore to myself that I'd forget our relationship. As you were saying?" Peter replied, Felicia rolling her eyes. "Whatever, well. I kinda said you were my date, and I kinda forgot to tell my parents we broke up so now we kinda have to go to this wedding together."
Another period of silence fell, then Peter's somewhat high voice rang in Felicia's ear. "Yeah, absolutely not. I refuse. Tell your parents I'm not going, I don't want to be seen with you." Felicia laid back onto her bed, her feet dangling off the side. "Do you not think I already said that? She doesn't care if you don't want to go. She still thinks we're together and my uncle wanted to meet you. So put your man pants on, and just do this one thing."
Peter exhaled, making sure Felicia knew he was fed up. "Fine. How long is this going for? When are we leaving? How much do I need to pack?" He asked, Felicia running her hand through her hair. "Well, the wedding is in two weeks. My uncle wanted us there a week in advance for some fucking reason. We're probably leaving tomorrow because we're being forced to drive there together. And pack as much as you want."
"Yeah, fuck that. A week, in a car alone with you? That's just asking me to die. Why do I even have to do this? Just tell your mom we're not--" Felicia cut him off, standing up and going back into her closet. "Yeah, that's out of the question. You already have a seat so, you have to go. We just have to pretend, even if we're shit at acting."
Peter exhaled again, this time heavier. "Whatever, I gotta go pack then I guess. See you tomorrow, jackass." Felicia sarcastically chuckled. "See you, dickhead." Felicia then hung up, wanting to throw her phone at the wall. Or, better yet, out the window. Instead, she just packed. Grabbing anything she could find and throwing them into her suitcase.
"If you wanna fucking die, clap your hands." She sang, clapping her hands. "If you wanna fucking die, clap your hands." Clap clap. "If you wanna fucking die, because your mom wants you to cry. If you wanna fucking die, clap your hands." Felicia clapped, grabbing a pillow from off her bed and screaming into it.
"It's just a week. One dreadful and aggravating week. It'll be fine. Fake it till you make it, right? What can go wrong?" She reassured herself. But it was all the beginning to one of the worst and memorable journeys of her life.
--
Peter watched Felicia walk out of the library, sighing of relief. "Finally, she's gone." He stared at the chemistry work, dreading that her had to work with her. No matter how much they fought for a switch, it wasn't happening.
He believed his professor hated him, for the very reason that he was still paired up with Felicia.
Peter stared playing the scene in his head, of the first time he and Felicia had asked for a switch.
"Please? We don't think either of us could work together anymore." He had said, Felicia was beside him but they stood far apart. "I'm sorry Mr. Parker. Miss Hardy. I can't switch you two halfway through the semester. It's final, you remember my strict rules. Once you had settled on a lab partner, there was no switching." Their professor responded.
He chuckled slightly, remembering how furious and agitated Felicia had gotten. She nearly punched an innocent classmate as she flailed her arms around in frustration that day.
The more he kept thinking, it became clear to him that he had no real reason to hate her.
Then Flash Thompson walked past, sparking whatever flame had been kept buried deep inside of himself.
Flash was the reason. Or what he thought was the reason.
"You never hang out with me anymore." Felicia had said, laying across Peter's couch. Resting her head onto his lap. "Yeah, well. You're always around Flash. Which, has made me suspicious." Peter responded, peering down to her. "Why the hell would you be suspicious? You know Flash and I are stuck working together for an assignment." Peter had sighed, lifting her gently off his legs.
"I don't think it's like that. I asked you on a date the other day, you declined. Then I went to get something from the cafe and there you were, sitting across from him. I find it very hard to believe you two don't have something going on." He scowled, crossing his arms. When Felicia had sat up, she snapped her head towards him, with the look of utter disbelief on her face.
"Do you even hear yourself? Why the fuck are you accusing me of cheating? I have never, NEVER, wanted Flash so why in God's name would I cheat on you with him? Peter, why would you think I would ever cheat on you?" She retorted, staring him down like a hawk. Feeling betrayed and hurt.
"Oh, I don't know because you don't actually want me. You're just bored because we don't do anything you want, so you're with me but fucking him. Because that's what you want, isn't it? You hate that I don't want to do anything right now, so you're going off with--" Peter had crossed a line, thinking Felicia had crossed one. "Oh, so that's what this is? You are making false accusations because I get horny."
"Well, do I have have some news for you. I have kept my word from the beginning, that I'd respect your limits. But, because I have needs you don't want to fulfill right now, you go and think I'm fucking Flash Thompson? Of all people? Peter, I love YOU. Why would I go off with someone I never liked? I would never do anything--" Peter tried to interrupt, but Felicia kept spewing her arguments, her innocent cries.
Peter never believed her. She stormed out of his dorm that day, after telling him they were through. He expected her to have gone to Flash, probably for angry sex. But when he called Flash, she wasn't there. He tried some of her friends, Felicia wasn't with them. As he called Felicia's dorm phone, it was immediately sent to voicemail. She was alone. And he had screwed up.
Peter left the library, in a huff. Annoyed from the blonde females presence still lingering around him. He needed to rejuvenate. Get rid of her bothersome aura and feel better.
Getting to his dorm, he threw his bag. Not caring where it landed, he'd find it tomorrow. Flopping himself onto his bed, he tried to nap. He felt like sleep would help, only to close his eyes and see Felicia's outline in the darkness. Jolting upwards, he opened them. Sighing heavily, he swung his feet over the side of his bed. He internally screamed, getting up slowly.
His shoulders slouched, grabbing a towel from his closet. As he did, he noticed a suit in a bag. Not opened, never worn. He ignored it, pushing it aside as he grabbed and sniffed a towel. "Eh, it"s fine." He grumbled, Felicia had taken an affect on him.
Dragging his feet over to the bathroom, he turned the light on and stripped. Throwing the towel onto the sink and starting the shower. "Hm, would a boiling hot shower burn Felicia off me? Probably." He said, looking at his refection in the shower knob.
As he turned the knob to the left, a quick burst of hot water sprung out. Peter standing in it for about twenty seconds, before it all went to ice. "Fucking hell! They need to fix the water heaters." He yelped as the ice cold water hit his once scorching skin. He stood, getting used to the feeling. "Whatever."
Almost thirty minutes passed, Peter getting out and drying himself. Staring into the mirror, he dried his hair. Leaving his locks messy, not bothering to brush through. He lazily wrapped the towel around his waist, leaving to his room to find some sweats. Clothing himself, he made whatever he could find in his pantry. Which happened to be a package of instant noodles.
"Ah, university life at it finest." He said aloud, seizing a pot from his cabinet. Adding hot water to the pot, turning the stove on and setting the pot down onto the burner. He waited patiently for the water to boil, placing the noodles into it. Letting it cook, adding the flavoring and dishing it out for himself.
He sat down on the couch, resting his feet up on the coffee table. It was a bit wobbly, he had been meaning to replace it but didn't have the effort to go out and buy one.
After trying to relax, finally feeling like a million bucks. No trace of irritation to be found, his phone starts to ring. He wondered who the hell would be calling him, checked and nearly threw his phone at the wall. "Why the fuck do I still have her number? Oh yeah, chemistry." He said to himself, sternly.
Peter let the phone ring for a couple seconds, finally picking up. "Why are you calling me?" He waited, hopefully this was a quick call and she would hang up shortly.
"Oh, you actually picked up. Okay, I don't know why I still have your number." He heard, rolling his eyes hearing her voice. "We're lab partners, dipshit." A scoff was heard, Peter smirking to himself. He thought pissing her off like that was rewarding. "Fuck you, first off. Second off, I hate my parents." There was stillness that appeared, Felicia not speaking for a second.
Then an audible and heavy sigh came from her mouth, followed by her irritable voice. "Do you remember when we were together and my uncle invited me to his wedding?" And there it was, the sudden realization as to why there was a suit in his closet, untouched.
Peter tried to sound as fake as possible, she couldn't know he sometimes remembered their past. So, he stayed silent. Trying to think of the perfect way to phrase, "why the fuck would I remember?".
"Hello? Assface, you there." He gulped, finally picking how he would respond. "Yeah, I was trying to remember. But, I swore to myself that I'd forget our relationship. As you were saying?"
He let the conversation run on, punching his bed as he heard Felicia say, "we kinda have to go to this wedding together." Peter wanted nothing to do with this. With her. He hated the fact that he was being forced to go.
Although, at a time he did agree to this. A time where he would've enjoyed her company. Road tripping across the country with her was something he had always wanted to do. But, together. As in, dating. In love. Bound to be together for a long time. But, they weren't. And never would be again.
As Felicia hung up, Peter stomped over to his closet. He knew he sounded like a five year old not getting the ice cream he wanted, but he was furious. Agitated. Distraught. Livid. Enraged.
Yanking his suitcase out, he threw whatever he could find. Not caring as to what he picked, he'd be in a car most of the time. He asked himself why they had to take a week to drive there. It felt completely unnecessary to take that many pit stops. But he knew Felicia, she liked exploring.
After throwing every last article of clothing he had into his luggage, he sat on his bed. Wondering how this would all go. How many fights they would get into. When she would finally spill that she wasn't with him. What exactly she would say. Why she wouldn't just tell the truth.
He leaned back, resting himself on his elbows. Staring blankly at the ceiling, mentally punching himself. "Why, oh why? Did I let her win this?" he asked aloud, not to anyone in particular. Not even knowing he was speaking at all.
"Cause she's a go-getter? An ambitious woman, who is determined to get what she wants? Or is she just doing this to get at me? Make me the angriest I've ever been?" He continued, flopping onto his back, pulling the covers up over him.
"I swear if she and I have to share a bed at any of the motels, I'm suing her entire family." That was the last sentence to leave his lips before shutting his eyes and falling asleep. The only thing he could dream of, was them finally at the wedding. Happy. Dancing together. It felt so real to him, like he was actually there. His hands on her waist, her hands playing with the little curls at the back of his head.
Peter let out a deep sigh, turning onto his stomach. Hopefully, he could dream of something different. Something good. The right dream to start off what he called, 'Nightmare Palooza.'