Shoutout to Qsk and McFam, the first madlads to jump straight into the highest tier. You guys are insane in the best way, true kings keeping this chaos alive.
═══════ 🕸️ ══════════════ 🕸️ ═══════
As soon as the bell rang, I grabbed my bag and left. The cafeteria was already alive with plastic trays and hormonal chaos. I walked past the center tables, the clout zone, where athletes threw grapes and girls pretended to be annoyed by it. Harry was already there, mid-laugh, probably cracking some joke about someone's dad or someone's shoes. He caught my eye.
Raised a brow.
Yeah, nah.
I turned and walked toward my usual spot. Table by the wall. Half-shadowed by the vending machine that made more noise than it sold snacks. It was not the cool table. Not the band table. Definitely not the "we are too ironic for society" art kid table either. Just mine. Unclaimed. Unbothered. Invisible boy's real estate.
Harry looked up, his eyes said, I gave you an invite, why are you walking past me like I don't exist?
If someone wanted to sit with me, they could. I was not gonna park myself next to some perfume-choked senior with a superiority complex just because Harry waved.
[System]: Oof. Snubbed the heir to Oscorp's social throne. That is +1 XP in anti-simp resistance.
"Someone grew a spine," said a voice from across the table.
Felicia.
Of course.
She sat without waiting. Silver nail polish, plaid skirt, smirk like she knew five things I did not and planned to use all of them against me. Her hair was pulled half-back, sunglasses perched on her head ready to be taken off just to insult you better.
I looked up. Her nails drummed the edge of my tray. Her legs crossed. Skirt rode a bit higher than Midtown's policies allowed but nobody was complaining. Not even the vending machine beside us, and that bastard was loud about everything.
I looked at her eyes. Wide open.
"F-f-felicia?"
Her smile dropped. Whole face turned bland. Like I just farted in church.
Then I grinned.
"How is my loser boy seeing popular girl impression? Did you like it?"
Her teasing smile came back. The kind that curled like a cat stretching after a nap it should not have taken on your keyboard.
"You are cute when you fake stutter," she said, tilting her head just slightly. "Almost made me think you were still a virgin."
"Bold of you to assume I was ever innocent," I replied, stabbing a fry. "For all you know, I came out the womb with a pick-up line."
She smirked, eyes narrowing as she leaned, violating my personal space. "Please. You are Midtown's biggest nerd. Half the school thought you were allergic to eye contact."
"That was old me," I said, licking ketchup off my thumb with too much tongue. "New me makes eye contact and bad decisions."
[System]: Mmm~ Filthy fry lick. She noticed. You just triggered her curiosity hormones. That is a +2 XP, baby.
Felicia rested her chin on her hand, elbow on the table. "So, what is this? Some kind of sudden puberty overdose? Or did Flash knock a wire loose and now you think you are hot?"
I shrugged. "Why not both?"
"You are cocky now," she said, more amused than annoyed. "Kinda digging it."
"Careful," I said, voice low, "Flirting with me might make you catch feelings. Or worse, hope."
She actually laughed. A real one this time. Flashy. Like her. Heads turned at nearby tables, which only made her smirk widen.
"You always been this dangerous," she asked, "or am I just noticing because you finally upgraded your wardrobe?"
I glanced down at my fit. Black tee, dark jeans, sneakers that actually matched. Nothing special. But it fit. That was enough.
"Maybe I stopped dressing like a charity case," I said. "Or maybe your standards finally dropped low enough to notice me."
She reached out, flicked a fry off my tray with one perfectly manicured finger. "Mm. Keep talking like that and I might ask if you want dessert."
I leaned in, matched her energy. "Depends. What is on the menu?"
Her lips parted slightly. "Me, if you are lucky."
[System]: WARNING. Full flirt lock. Initiate panty radar. Target's heat signature rising. We are entering the danger zone.
"I like those odds," I murmured.
Felicia leaned back like she was done, but her eyes still lingered. "We will see if you can handle the odds."
Then she stood, slow and smooth, like a walking Vogue cover. "See you around, Peter."
"Bet on it," I said, watching her walk away.
[System]: Mmm~ that sway. Archived. XP gained. Midtown just witnessed peak rizz, and the vending machine is jealous.
I was left sitting there, tray half-eaten, adrenaline spiked from flirt combat. My heart did not pound. It strutted. Yeah, Felicia was a wild card. And I just got dealt in.
I picked up my soda, took a sip, and stared at the table across the room where MJ was pretending not to have been watching the entire time.
[System]: Ohhh baby, she saw everything. Emotional weather incoming. Forecast: salty with a chance of tension.
Finished my lunch and got up. High school was one of those weird little sitcoms you only realized you missed once you were balding and drinking coffee out of a mug that said "World's Okayest Dad." Lucky for me, the universe said, "Try again, dumbass," and dropped me back into a teenage meat suit armed with web powers and a libido set to "always on."
I knew exactly what I missed the first time around. The glances. The dumb jokes. The hand brushes that made your whole arm feel like static. The girls who smiled at you and meant it. The ones who didn't.
And now? I got a front-row seat to reruns with bonus features.
I slung my bag over one shoulder, stretched like I had just finished a workout instead of a flirt-off, and headed out into the hallway.
[System]: Mmm~ that was a steamy scene, sugar. Cafeteria is still recovering. MJ's seat is emotionally scorched.
"Good," I said in my head. "Let it burn."
[System]: Ooh~ petty Parker has entered the chat. I love it. +1 XP for spicy aftertaste.
There was a group of cheerleaders near the lockers. They looked. Whispered. One even tilted her head like I was a new type of math she might enjoy failing.
[System]: Incoming flirt potential. Moderate risk, high reward. You wanna cast your web, Casanova?
"You know what? I do."
I said it like a man about to storm Normandy, but the target was a ponytail and lip gloss combo near the trophy case. Full-on cheerleader drip. Crop top, skirt, legs for days, and a laugh that made two nearby freshmen trip over their own puberty. She was hot. Popular. Probably shallow enough to treat SAT scores like Zodiac signs.
Perfect.
"Let's lose that V-card with a hot cheerleader," I said, turning slightly to eye the blonde who just bent over near her locker like she knew I was watching. "And make sure she spreads the name while she is at it."
[System]: Mmm~ bold. Reckless. Arrogant. I love it.
'Got any boosts on bed performance?' I asked mentally, keeping my smirk casual as I walked. 'You know, to make her drool? If I suck, your mission dies in the sheets. This is as important to me as it is to you.'
[System]: Ohhh~ sugar, you want performance enhancers? Say less. I got a cocktail of perks that will turn your first time into a damn Olympic event. You want control, stamina, even breath sync upgrades? Done. But you better earn it. No freebies until the panties drop.
'Fair,' I muttered. "But let's make sure when they do? She is calling me Spider-Daddy by sunrise."
[System]: That is the spirit~ Now go get 'em, tiger. And don't you dare finish early. I will revoke your XP and play disappointment moans on loop.
I cracked my knuckles. Adjusted my walk. Switched gears from "reformed nerd" to "main character with villain potential." This was not about love. This was about branding. Reputation. Emotional guerrilla warfare. MJ saw it. She felt it. Now? She was going to hear about it.
From lips that were not hers. Wrapped around tales of exactly what I could do with confidence and cardio.
I scanned the cheerleader trio again. The blonde was closest. Tall. Tight uniform. AirPods in, but only one. That was an invite. Her friend whispered something. She laughed. Loud. Bright. The kind that announced, "I am hot and I know it."
I walked up like the main character of a sex dream and a CW drama had a baby. Planted my foot on the bench, real bold, like I was about to drop a speech that would start a rebellion. One arm on my knee. Posture cocky enough to make the air pressure drop. Eyes locked straight on hers.
Cassie Monroe blinked.
Then smiled like she was just dared to ruin me.
Platinum hair up in that textbook-perfect ponytail, lashes so long they probably came with a license. Legs crossed like they were holding government secrets. Lip gloss bright as a warning label, chewing gum like it was foreplay.
"Ugh," she said, looking me up and down, slow like a scan. "Are you always this confident, or is it just because you caught me mid-leg stretch?"
[System]: Mmm~ Her defense mechanisms are wet and visible. Tongue ready. Thigh tension rising. Two more seconds and she is gonna offer a seat on her face.
"Confidence is not a setting," I said. "It is a survival instinct. And honestly? I think you would respect that. You look like the type who eats simps for protein."
She giggled. Loud. On purpose. The kind of laugh you weaponize when you know your cheer squad is listening. She leaned back, pulled her legs apart just slightly. The skirt crept. I kept my eyes at her level, mostly because looking down would make the System start moaning again.
"Well, well," she said, tapping a finger on her lip, "Midtown's nerd-brother finally grew a backbone. You gonna ask for my number or just keep posing like you are auditioning for a Calvin Klein thirst trap?"
I grinned, her eyebrows twitched as I leaned closer, and let it drop like I was tossing a match into gasoline.
"Let's cut the crap, Cassie," I said, tone lazy-slick. "I know why your eyes were on me. It is not the walk. Not the shirt. It is Flash."
She blinked. That slow, trained blink girls do when they are deciding whether to flirt harder or pull out the claws.
"You saw me make your ex-boyfriend eat linoleum yesterday. Mid-hallway. Mid-ego. And now your little justice sensors are tingling."
Cassie opened her mouth, probably to deny it, to deflect with some cutesy quip about cheer practice, but I did not stop. I kept going like a paper cut across her vanity.
"You wanna piss him off, don't you?" I said. "Walk into the cafeteria with me on your arm, all pretty and smug and lethal. Let him see it. Let him choke on it. You are not here to flirt. You are here to avenge."
[System]: Mmm~ she flinched. Not from fear, baby. From recognition. You just nailed her kink: emotional exposure.
"And you think I am the perfect weapon," I added, voice dipping lower. "Loser nerd turned sudden main character. You think you can use me. String me along. Get Flash's blood pressure up and then throw me out like yesterday's notes."
Cassie's smile had frozen in place. It was still pretty as hell though. But flaw was there. The kind of flaw that said, "Shit. He caught me."
"So here is the twist," I said, getting even closer. "Let's say I am in. Let's say I want to piss him off too. Real bad. Let's burn him together."
[System]: Ohhh~ enemy of my enemy potential unlocked. Chaotic mutual pettiness. Delicious tension spike. +2 XP.
Cassie crossed her legs slower this time. Her eyes flicked to my mouth. Her smile returned... different now. Not performative. Predatory.
"You are dangerous, Parker," she said, voice dipped in gum-pink venom. "Little slutty. Little mean. I like that."
"I aim to please," I said. "But mostly to win."
She twisted a strand of her platinum hair around one finger, then let it fall with a flick. "If we do this... Flash is gonna lose his mind."
"Good," I said. "Let him spiral."
Cassie's tongue dragged across her bottom lip, slow. Then she did something bold. She reached out and traced the edge of my jaw with one manicured nail, pretending it was innocent.
"You are not scared of what happens when I get bored, are you?" she asked, head tilted like a curious cat seconds from murder.
I caught her wrist. Gently. Held it. Kissed her hand.
"It is my fault if you are bored."
Check Images Chapter to see images. Cassie's was added as well.
═══════ 🕸️ ══════════════ 🕸️ ═══════
You can read up to Chapter 72...
patreon.com/ScriptWraith