He was a mere week into his revamped education track and already Peter was beginning to wonder how his peers had handled the prior nine years at such a rigorous pace in the public school system.  As his mother had been juggling her real estate career with home schooling her shortest child since he was five years old, he’d often been left to his own devices with the lesson plans.  As sharp as he was, Peter had picked it all up quickly and was indeed prepared for the material now being presented to him, but the workload was still something else to consider.

                Within two days of the syllabi passing around, lesson plans and homework were being liberally doled out, and already talk of eventual quizzes and tests was on the lips of Peter’s teachers.  It was a lot to take in; fortunately, the lingering novelty of it all was enough to help energize the freshman into action.

                U.S. History with Mr. Browning wasn’t shaping up to be quite the disaster Peter feared it might be after the semester project groups had been chosen and he’d found himself entrapped into a major commitment with his trio of self-appointed best friends.  Far more time was spent getting engrossed in the birth of the nation in his assigned seat, which also allowed for time to speak to Lisa.  Every interaction, however brief, led to him feeling the keen burn of Sharon’s silver eyes on the back of his neck, but being able to chat with the petite redhead, still among the only students in the place to treat him like a true equal, always made it completely worthwhile.  It was impossible not to get lost in those freckles sprinkled over her cheeks, or the emerald eyes laid above.

                He hadn’t forgotten what had happened seven days before in gym class, when it looked distinctly like Amy had carried out a volleyball-themed mob hit on Lisa for Sharon.  A great deal of the intervening hours had been spent worrying about potential bullying he was inflicting on Lisa just by associating with her, but he was always soothed out of this mindset through conversation with her.  He couldn’t allow himself to be cheated out of friendship by selfish onlookers, not when he’d fought this hard to attend the school.

                Of course, association with Lisa came with its consequences for him as well, however slight.  Sharon’s gaze had grown even colder if such a thing was possible.  Kimmy picked up a habit of blowing wintergreen bubbles large enough that Peter could’ve fit inside, then popping them with a rubbery crack that jolted the miniscule freshman violently enough that a condescending giggle was triggered in the whole trio.

Amy had been forbidden from physically picking Peter up, though she still found ways around the rule that allowed her to get her hands on him.  Often the freshman would suddenly feel a firm fingertip pressing into the space between his shoulder blades, then stroking downward to the small of his back, stopping just short of fondling his rear end.  He’d swivel around, startled, and be met with more raucous chuckling from the entire group.  Any attempt on his part to request a less unseemly method of attention-seeking was usually shriveled up by Sharon’s eyes before he could even get the words out.

                Fortunately, he got History out of the way first-thing, and then he’d have the sanctuary of Biology to be near his lab partner without interference.  He was beginning to get the sense that the blunt and beady-eyed Mrs. Baker, even with all her experience as a teacher, was incredibly disorganized, often leading to pleasant stretches of time where the students were left alone while the woman rummaged through her office for the lesson plan or homework assignments.  Today was no exception.

                “Wow.  She almost got through the whole class before she forgot something,” Lisa whispered down to Peter as the pudgy-legged educator headed for the door, the class erupting into chatter before Baker had even shut the door.

                “I really thought she’d have this one,” Peter commented.

                “Do you think she’s showed up to a class with everything she needs at the start?  Ever?”

                “If she ever did, it was probably on a Saturday when she forgot we didn’t have class on the weekends,” he chuckled, earning a snort from his peer, as well as an approving slap on the edge of the table with the heel of her hand that rattled the surface.  Noticing immediately, she froze in place again, curling her slender fingers into a reverent fist, and laid both hands on the table again.

                “I…”

                “Really.  It’s cool.  I can handle the table shaking a little,” Peter said, ceaselessly amused by her desire to keep him safe from threats like barely-noticeable vibrations.  Plus, her melodic laugh was positively infectious, and he would’ve taken any opportunity to listen to it.

                “I know.  I just sometimes kind of forget that you’re…”

                “…five inches tall,” Peter finished softly for her, pausing in grateful awe as the reality of her error dawned on him.  “Trust me.  You have no idea what that feels like.”

                Slightly embarrassed but nonetheless pleased with herself after her new friend’s answer, Lisa bowed her head toward the lab table until her temple touched it, a sweet smile on her lips.  Peter took a few steps closer to her until he could’ve leaned against her elbow, clad along with the rest of her arm in a wiry white sweater that intermixed with her cascading titian tresses.

                His gut twisted pleasantly, like he was strapped in the car of a roller coaster and riding the chain toward the top of a hill, or at least how he imagined that would feel if it wasn’t such a safety hazard for someone his size.  The longer he looked at the gentle face of this girl who truly had begun to actually forget that he was smaller than her hand, allowing himself to feel safe staring into the green pools of her eyes, the more he felt a yearning inside himself for a connection he had long ago subconsciously written off as impossible for someone like him.

                “Can I ask you something?” Lisa intoned timidly, still with her head resting against the desk, and Peter’s stomach proceeded to roll a full three-sixty.

                “Y-Yeah.  Yeah,” he managed.

                “You know a week ago, when we kind of, um…” she proceeded.  “…practiced what we’d do if there was a fire?”

                “Uh-huh.”

                “Do you think maybe we should, um… you know, just to make completely sure we’d be ready…”

                “Try again?” Peter asked, working very hard not to sound over-eager at the thought of her picking him up again.  A week ago he’d effortlessly asked her to try lifting him, but suddenly he felt that confidence sapped, replaced with anxiety at saying the wrong thing, as though every word he said to her suddenly meant a little more than before.  Why?

                “Yeah.  I mean, as long as you’re-”

                “Oh no, no I’m… I’m fine with whatever,” he said as casually as possible, shrugging.  “Want to practice again?”

                “Yes,” she whispered, blinking as she lifted her head up from the table again.  Where Peter’s words were more hesitant now, Lisa’s had taken on a steadier tone: still just as caring, but with more assurance in herself.  Her right hand, which had been resting palm-down against the surface, turned slowly, her fingers unfurling until it was flattened and waiting for Peter to board.

                “Thanks,” he said out of habit, taking a few weightless steps toward the hand belonging to a girl he was beginning to realize more and more wasn’t just the first real best friend he’d had.  Testing the softness of her fingertip again, he stepped in with more confidence than the first time she’d opened her pale palm to him, lowering down to his haunches in the creased center of her hand.

                “Going up,” she said again, the same way she had a week before.  Goose bumps rippled up Peter’s arms as he ascended from the surface, so even that he found he was able to stand fully up in Lisa’s palm as she carried him.  It was more like delivered upward on a cloud of air, the tender give of her skin beneath his shoes the only indicator that he wasn’t, in fact, floating right now.

“How’s that?” she whispered.

                “That’s, um…” he mumbled, drinking the feeling in as best as he could.  “That’s pretty good.”

                “I’m glad,” she sighed.  “So you think I’ve got the hang of it?”

                “I think you do.”

                The bell for the end of class tolled loudly, an irritating reminder that Mrs. Baker hadn’t returned yet with the homework.  A few students just shrugged and resolved to escape the classroom before the woman returned with their assignments, though a few including Lisa and Peter remained.  Even with bodies jostling past the desks, stomping aggressively across the carpet to reach the door, Lisa miraculously remained motionless.  At the very least, she was more skilled at this than Jessica, who had been holding her brother regularly with an attentive and nurturing focus for more than half her life.

                “I guess your sister will be here to get you soon, huh?” Lisa said.  “Maybe I should put you back down?”

                “Maybe,” Peter stated back, hesitant to give a positive confirmation so he could continue to enjoy the sensation he had now of staring into Lisa’s generous green eyes from just a little bit closer, comforted in the full knowledge that he was moving absolutely no where unless she wanted him to.  As another student exited the classroom, sweeping absentmindedly by the lab table, a small breeze picked up the ends of Lisa’s red hair, a few strands of which fluttered up toward her hand and brushed along Peter’s arm.

                “Maaaaybe,” she repeated back in a hushed tone with an increasingly broad grin, copying Peter’s contemplatively deadpanning, and earned a smile from her passenger.  The final remaining student besides the pair scurried out of the room at the sight of the ticking clock for next period.

                “Lisa,” Peter said suddenly, surprising himself with the dulcet sound of her name in his throat without him having fully authorized it.

                “Yes?”

                “I, uh…” he began.  Her attention was completely on him.  The rest of the world was nothing in this moment.  How could he possibly be expected to perform under this kind of pressure?  “I was… was just wondering… if sometime you wanted to g-”

                “Let’s get going, twerp!” Erica groaned as she pushed the door open and entered, immediately catching sight of her brother in unknown hands.  Peter and Lisa, their reverie interrupted, both flinched at the sound and turned to look up at the upperclassman as though they’d been caught in the middle of something federally prohibited.

Like when she’d witnessed Ms. Tritter holding Peter on the first day of school, Erica’s irises flickered, her lips flushing white for just a moment.  She stepped forward cautiously, clearly trying to gauge the potential threat, her tone softened considerably:  “Sorry I’m late.  Everything good in here?”

                “Yeah.  Yeah, everything’s… good,” Peter gulped, thrust back into the mad pace of reality, half-gratified over and half-cursing his sister’s serendipitously timed arrival.

                “Who’s your friend?” Erica asked as she walked up to the lab table, more in her normal voice, having assessed that her sibling wasn’t in immediate peril, though she still braced slightly.  Lisa, looking just as inexplicably guilty as Peter at having been caught red-handed in nothing, had been stricken silent.

                “This is Lisa,” Peter said.  “Lisa, this is my sister Erica.”

                “Hi,” Lisa peeped, instinctively lowering her hand back toward the table.  “It’s good to meet you.”  As soon as Peter had stepped out of Lisa’s palm and back onto the table, Erica’s whole frame seemed to relax a little more.

                “You too,” Erica said, then laid her own palm onto the table next to Peter.  “We’re already running way behind, so is it cool if we get a move-on?”

                “Yeah, totally,” Peter agreed, hopping quickly into his sister’s hand as it rose up to be level with her stomach.  Instantly the eldest Clark made for the door, with the next bell set to sound any minute.  “I’ll… see you in gym later, Lisa.”

                “See you,” the redhead said softly as she reached down to grab her backpack.  She waved her fingers delicately at him, unable to hide a hopeful smile.