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To All the Boys I've Loved Before - 55
Romance
Completed
10581
“Uh . . . don’t you think it’s weird for my supposed girlfriend to wear a couples costume with another guy?” Peter asks me.
I roll my eyes. I’m still mad at him from this morning. “I’m sorry, I can’t talk to you when you look like this. How am I supposed to have a conversation with a person in head-to-toe latex?”
Peter pushes his mask up. “I’m serious! How do you think it makes me look?”
“First of all, it wasn’t planned. Second of all, nobody cares what my costume is! Who would even notice something like that?”
“People notice,” Peter huffs. “I noticed.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I’m very sorry that a coincidence like this would ever occur.”
“I really doubt it was a coincidence,” Peter mutters.
“What do you want me to do? Do you want me to pop over to the Halloween store during lunch and buy a red wig and be Mary Jane?”
Smoothly Peter says, “Could you? That’d be great.”
“No, I could not. You know why? Because I’m Asian, and people will just think I’m in a manga costume.” I hand him my wand. “Hold this.” I lean down and lift the hem of my robe so I can adjust my knee socks.
Frowning, he says, “I could have been someone from the book if you’d told me in advance.”
“Yes, well, today you’d make a really great Moaning Myrtle.”
Peter gives me a blank look, and disbelieving, I say, “Wait a minute . . . have you never read Harry Potter?”
“I’ve read the first two.”
“Then you should know who Moaning Myrtle is!”
“It was a really long time ago,” Peter says. “Was she one of those people in the paintings?”
“No! And how could you stop after Chamber of Secrets? The third one’s the best out of the whole series. I mean, that’s literally crazy to me.” I peer at his face. “Do you not have a soul?”
“Sorry if I haven’t read every single Harry Potter book! Sorry I have a life and I’m not in the Final Fantasy club or whatever that geek club is called—”
I snatch my wand back from him and wave it in his face. “Silencio!”
Peter crosses his arms. Smirking, he says, “Whatever spell you just tried to cast on me, it didn’t work, so I think you need to go back to Hogwarts.” He’s so proud of himself for the Hogwarts reference, it’s kind of endearing.
Quick like a cat I pull down his mask, and then I put one hand over his mouth. With my other hand I wave my wand again. “Silencio!” Peter tries to say something, but I press my hand harder. “What? What was that? I can’t hear you, Peter Parker.”
Peter reaches out and tickles me, and I laugh so hard I almost drop my wand. I dart away from him but he pounces after me, pretend shooting webs at my feet. Giggling, I run away from him, further down the hall, dodging groups of people. He gives chase all the way to chem class. A teacher screams at us to slow down, and we do, but as soon as we’re around the corner, I’m running again and so is he.
I’m breathless by the time I’m in my seat. He turns around and shoots a web in my direction, and I explode into giggles again and Mr. Meyers glares at me. “Settle down,” he says, and I nod obediently. As soon as his back is turned, I giggle into my robe. I want to still be mad at Peter, but it’s just no use.
Halfway through class he sends me a note. He’s drawn spiderwebs around the edges. It says, I’ll be on time tomorrow. I smile as I read it. Then I put it in my backpack, in my French textbook so the page won’t crease or crumble. I want to keep it so when this is over, I can have something to look at and remember what it was like to be Peter Kavinsky’s girlfriend. Even if it was all just pretend.
44
WHEN WE PULL UP IN my driveway, Kitty runs out of the house and over to the car. “Spider-Man!” she shrieks. She’s still in her ninja costume, though she’s taken the mask off. “Are you coming inside?”
I glance at Peter. “He can’t. He has to go condition.” Peter spends an hour a day conditioning for lacrosse. He’s very dedicated to it.
“Condition?” Kitty repeats, and I know she’s imagining Peter washing his hair.
“I can hang out for a little bit,” Peter says, turning the engine off.
* * *
“Let’s show him the dance!”
“Kitty, no.” The dance is something Margot and I made up when we were bored one night a few summers ago at the beach. Let’s just say neither of us is particularly talented at choreography.
Peter’s eyes light up. He’ll take any opportunity for a laugh, especially at my expense. “I wanna see the dance!”
“Forget about it,” I tell him. We’re in the living room; each of us has our own couch or armchair. I poured us iced teas and put out a bowl of potato chips, which we’ve already finished.
“Come on,” he pouts. “Show me the dance. Please, please show me the dance.”
“That’s not going to work on me, Peter.”
“What’s not going to work?”
I wave my hand in his Handsome Boy face. “That. I’m immune to your charms, remember?”
Peter lifts his eyebrows like I’ve dared him. “Is that a challenge? ’Cause I’m warning you, you do not want to step into the ring with me. I’ll crush you, Covey.” He doesn’t take his eyes off mine for several long seconds, and I can feel my smile fade and my cheeks heat up.
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