Peter WHY...

The night air was crisp and thick with snow as Peter Parker swung back to Queens from Hell's Kitchen, the glow of holiday lights fading into the distance behind him. His chat with Matt Murdock—Daredevil—had left him in good spirits, the rookie's earnest admiration a quiet boost after days of Daily Bugle nonsense. 

Nice guy, Peter thought, landing on a snowy rooftop near his house in Forest Hills. He's figuring it out—kinda like I did. He slipped through his bedroom window, peeling off his red and black suit and stashing it under the bed, the familiar creak of the floorboards a reminder of home. Tomorrow was Monday—back to school, back to the grind of classes after a weekend of webs and heroics.

The next morning dawned cold and gray, the snow piling up outside as Peter trudged to Midtown High, his backpack slung over one shoulder. The weekend's thrill—Thanksgiving with Liz, the jewelry store takedown—felt like a dream against the mundane rhythm of school bells and locker slams. He spotted Liz near the entrance, her blonde hair catching the fluorescent light as she adjusted her scarf, and his heart did a little flip. 

Quickening his pace to join her. Then he noticed Harry Osborn standing nearby, leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"Hey, Liz," Peter said, sliding up beside her with a grin. "Hey, Harry."

Liz turned, her smile brightening. "Hey, you two," she said, linking her arm with Peter's. "Harry, good to see you."

"Hey, Liz. Hey, Pete," Harry replied, nodding at them both, though his eyes lingered on Peter with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Peter said, shrugging. "Back to the grind, you know."

Liz nudged Peter playfully, then turned to Harry. "So, Harry, who're you bringing to the winter formal? It's coming up fast—gotta lock someone down."

Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, still working on that. Maybe Gwen Stacy—she's cool, and I think she's free. What about you guys? Guess it's a done deal, huh?"

"Oh, totally," Liz said, grinning at Peter. "Me and this guy are set. But, Peter, you'd better brush up that tux—and your dancing skills. I'm not tripping over your feet at the dance."

Peter laughed, feigning offense. "Hey, my tux is pristine, and my moves? Top-notch. I've been practicing in my room—smooth as silk."

"Uh-huh, sure," Liz teased, her eyes twinkling. "I'll believe it when I see it. Harry, back me up—tell him he needs to step it up."

Harry smirked, raising an eyebrow. "She's got a point, Pete. You're dating Liz Allan now—gotta bring your A-game. Can't believe you're pulling this off, man."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peter shot back, grinning as they started walking toward the school doors, Liz still tucked against his side.

"Just saying," Harry said, his tone light but edged with incredulity. "You and Liz? It's wild. You're the quiet science guy, and she's… well, the queen of Midtown."

Liz rolled her eyes, laughing. "Oh, come on, Harry. Peter's got charm—you just don't see it 'cause you're too busy with your Oscorp brooding."

"Brooding's my thing," Harry quipped, holding the door open for them. "But seriously, Pete, how'd you snag her? You holding out some secret playbook?"

"Just being myself," Peter said, his grin widening as they stepped into the bustling hallway. "Guess it works."

"Clearly," Liz said, giving his arm a squeeze. "He's sweet, Harry—deal with it." She leaned in, planting a quick kiss on Peter's cheek, her lips warm against his cold skin. "I've gotta hit my locker—see you guys later."

"Later," Peter called, watching her weave through the crowd, her blonde hair a beacon in the sea of students. He turned back to Harry, catching the weird, lingering look in his friend's eyes. "What's with the face, man? You've been staring at me funny since we got here."

Harry shook his head, a smirk breaking through. "Can't help it, Pete. I still can't believe you're dating Liz Allan. Like, Liz Allan. The hottest, most popular girl in school, and you're the one walking her in? It's unreal."

Peter laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets as they headed toward their lockers. "What, you think I'm not boyfriend material? I've got game, Harry."

"Sure you do," Harry teased, his voice dripping with mock doubt. "But Liz? It's like you won the lottery and didn't tell me."

The hallway buzzed around them, lockers slamming and voices overlapping as students shuffled to class. The gossip about Peter and Liz had been simmering for weeks, and now, with the winter formal on the horizon, it flared up again. Near the water fountain, a trio of sophomores huddled, their whispers carrying just loud enough to catch.

"Did you see Liz kiss Peter's cheek?" one girl, a brunette with braces, said, her eyes wide. "They're, like, official-official now."

"Right?" her friend, a lanky kid with a backpack slung low, chimed in. "Peter Parker and Liz Allan? I thought she'd go for someone flashier—like a jock or something."

The third, a girl with glasses, giggled. "He's kinda cute, though, in a nerdy way. And Liz is the queen—guess she picked her king."

Further down, near the science wing, two seniors leaned against the wall, their voices low but sharp. "Parker's punching way above his weight," one said, smirking. "Liz Allan's out of his league—how's he pulling that off?"

"Dunno," the other replied, shrugging. "Maybe he's got some hidden charm. They're all anyone talks about lately—winter formal's gonna be their big debut."

Peter caught snippets of it as he and Harry passed, his ears tuning in despite himself. Guess we're the talk of the town, he thought, a mix of pride and amusement bubbling up. Let 'em gossip—means Liz and I are doing something right.

Harry nudged him, breaking his train of thought. "You hear that stuff? Whole school's buzzing about you two. Still can't wrap my head around it."

"Get used to it," Peter said, grinning as he opened his locker. "Liz likes me, I like her—simple as that. You gonna keep giving me that look all day?"

"Maybe," Harry said, smirking as he grabbed his books. "Just don't screw it up, Romeo. She's way too good for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Peter shot back, laughing. "Worry about your own date, Osborn—I've got this covered."

The bell rang, a shrill call to class, and the hallway thinned out as students scattered. Peter shut his locker, the gossip still floating around him like static. Liz's kiss lingered on his cheek, a small spark against the cold Monday morning, and he couldn't shake the grin as he headed off, Harry's teasing trailing behind. School was back in session, but Peter felt like he was walking on air—Liz, Harry, and a little holiday magic keeping his double life in balance, at least for now.