Peter was having a hard time deciding where to plant his hands as he achingly awaited Lisa’s arrival in the biology classroom. Normally he didn’t think about these kinds of details quite so anal-retentively, but given that he was about to be in the presence of a person who was capable of giving him a near-lethal goose bump overdose at the mere suggestion of being in her vicinity, he was suddenly overthinking everything once again. Already he could feel his cheeks flushing with warmth like that time Suzanne had allowed him to sample a drop of champagne at Christmas, yet his fingertips felt distinctly separated from the otherwise overwrought chemical reaction with a tingly chill.

                It was confusing. As usual.

                But Peter couldn’t have cared less as he saw the last of the students file in before class started, followed by the petite redhead, whose eyes lit up in that magical way, her lips immediately spreading into a sweet grin as she darted carefully between the desks toward the tiny freshman, who didn’t even feel the slightest impulse to flinch at her rapid approach, like he would’ve for just about any other charging human on the planet.

                They’d of course exchanged a few furtive glances during first period history at one another that reliably flooded Peter’s gut with emotional novocaine. One look at those glistening emerald irises, even from across a city block of towering desks, was enough to counter the whole hour’s worth of skull-drilling glares the diminutive boy could feel from the trio just behind him. Frankly, he was surprised he didn’t have Sharon’s cold fingertip tapping incessantly at his shoulder for an interrogation about the date he’d so publicly requested to put her in her place, let alone Amy’s entire hand coiling around him.

                Maybe Sharon had too much of a death grip on that superhuman level of pride she carried around like a mythic aura to mention it. Or maybe she was just trying to let him stew before cornering him for the full questioning. Somehow, in this instant, it didn’t matter.

                Whatever the case, he and Lisa were finally out from under the laser-vision inspection of the silver vixen, the amazonian volleyball prodigy, and freckled crony. Which, as Peter realized, suddenly made him infinitely more nervous. It was all on him now. No more excuses. When he really thought about it, were the terrible three really that much scarier than being alone with Lisa?

                Well, yes, demonstrably so, but that didn’t mean Peter wasn’t anxious now.

                “Hey,” Lisa said, anxiously biting the corner of her lip as she slid into her chair, placing a hand on the edge of the table to avoid rattling it in any way, as she was always so careful to do. As soon as she was in, her fingers began fidgeting with a flowy strand of her orange locks.

                “Hi,” Peter managed, nearly choking on the dryness of his throat. Willing himself to speak rather than linger in the awkward yet fulfilling peace of just staring at one another in a moment of ethereal silence amidst a classroom full of bustling bodies, he cleared his throat. “It’s… good to see you.”

                “You too,” she uttered, obviously just as short on words. Her hand trembled, nonchalantly turning over to reveal her pale palm. “I know there’s n-not really a reason to right now, but, um…”

                “Sure,” Peter breathed, rising to his feet and striding toward the girl’s fingers, grateful that she was offering the chance to be held rather than forcing him through the clumsy syntax of requesting it without looking too peculiar. His feet sunk gently into the plush give of her flesh as he dipped into her palm and steadily rose a few inches off the jet-black surface of the table.

                “I… had a lot of fun on Friday,” she said.

                “Yeah, yeah, same here.”

                “Would- I mean, I don’t want to… you know, assume, but-”

                “Y-Yeah?”

                “…that… that wasn’t a one-time thing, was it?”

                “I hope n- I mean, that would be nice. To do it again sometime,” Peter fumbled, trying desperately to limit the quantity of stupidity in his smile.

                “I think so too,” Lisa replied, her voice steadily gaining confidence, even as her tone remained just as light and airy as ever. “Your mom seemed kind of… nervous. I mean, I understand, completely, she’s worried about you, but… was she okay?”

                Nearly overcome with the selflessness of this concern, Peter shook his head. “Yeah, she’s fine. She always gets like that when I go anywhere without her.”

                “Okay.”

                “I know she just met you, but she really likes you already,” the freshman continued, not quite sure who he was talking about anymore.

                “Oh! Well, that’s… good. I’m glad,” Lisa said with an uncertain smile. “I just want her to know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

                “I… think she knows already,” Peter reassured, still muddled in the exact identities here.

                “Good. Still, though, I wish there was a way to convince her for sure. Your sisters, too. I’m sure they worry about you.”

                You don’t know the half of it, Peter thought to himself, and then felt his lips parting again almost against his will. “Are you doing anything next Friday?” he blurted. It was difficult not to cringe at the unwieldy sound of those needy syllables coming without so much as a transition.

                “Nope!” Lisa answered just as quickly, wincing with similar disdain for her own lack of self-control. “I mean… I’m not, uh… I’m not doing anything. Nothing.”

                “Cool. Would you, uh… you know-”

                “Sure,” the girl said, helping him along as best she could. “What do you want to do?”

                “I…” Peter mumbled. He hadn’t intended to get this far in the conversation, and certainly hadn’t planned any further than the emotional hurdle of feebly requesting a second date or whatever-this-was. Now he was back in uncharted territory, as per usual. Immediately another idea popped into his head, but somehow it seemed just a little on the creepy side to request the possibility of Lisa simply holding him in those angelic and protective hands of hers while they talked until their throats went sore.

                “Wait a minute,” Lisa said, startling Peter and simultaneously filling him with relief. “What about… I mean, we don’t have to, but what about something with your family?”

                The thought took a moment to register for the boy. He could definitely see the logic, and was certain that his mother and sisters, as well as any given human being on earth, would learn to love Lisa after a solid evening of quality time. On the other hand, after a weekend where the emotional states of the three women had been nearly shattered thanks to his seismic stint under Stella’s foot, it wasn’t going to be without risks. Especially where Jessie was concerned.

                Of course, those worries once again were purged the instant Peter looked back up at Lisa’s face and caught sight of the hopeful glow in her green eyes, full of genuine desire to reassure those closest to him that she was a positive force in his life, and suddenly the answer was so clear he berated himself for not responding in the same picosecond as her question. He lifted his hand, giving her thumb a soft pat.

                “S-Sure!” he blubbered, and could’ve almost melted at the sight of the soothing respite washing over Lisa’s adorable features, her eyelashes batting as she sunk a little deeper into the chair, her muscles evidently relaxing again as they settled back into their familiar groove with one another.

                “Awesome,” she said, bringing her other hand to bear near her palm, her fingers edging in toward her friend. “I know, it probably sounds a little rude to… you know, invite myself over, but-”

                “Not at all!” Peter defended, instinctively giving her thumb another touch that stretched into a stroke. He watched it shudder with the same fervor as his entire arm. God, what was he going to do with himself?

                “J-Just wanted to make sure,” Lisa said, for a moment clenching the fingers of her opposite hand softly into a fist but instantly spreading them back out, clearly pre-meditated, almost in an invitation to repeat the act. It took an awful lot of willpower for Peter to not immediately respond in kind with his hand. “Maybe you can let me know… if it’s okay. You know, once you find out.”

                “Oh yeah, absolutely,” he breathed, stuffing his hands into his pockets before they could start visibly trembling again. “I’m… sure it’ll be totally fine. But I’ll let you know.”

                “Thanks,” Lisa said. “Really.”

                “Of course.”

                “I just don’t want anyone to feel nervous about us being… you know, hanging out and stuff.”

                “Right. Yeah,” Peter answered dreamily, a little too focused on landscaping in his mind’s eye what the final words on that sentence might’ve been before the bashful redhead amended them.  “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

                Still trying to find a position that kept him looking too much like he was made of anxious jelly, Peter crossed his arms over his chest, allowing his sleeves to slide a little further up his arms, and recoiled at the instantaneous reaction on Lisa’s part. Her usually stock-still hand quavered, nearly knocking Peter on his side. Her eyes, still with their soft glow, bulged instantly with silent panic, her lips parting to allow for a sharp intake of breath.

                Heart fluttering, Peter looked from side to side for the source of her horror, until he looked down and realized the deep purple bruises that were now tattooed across his limbs, courtesy of the ride in Stella’s sock, had been made suddenly visible. And Lisa had been apparently immobilized by the mere sight.

                “Are… are those-” Lisa managed meekly, her index finger shakily extending back from her hand in his direction before she pulled it away again. Her entire palm seemed to curl closer around him.

                “It’s nothing. It just happened over the weekend,” Peter said hurriedly, rolling his sleeves back down, but the damage was already done.

                “When?”

                “Friday. After I went home,” the freshman said as calmly as possible.

                “How?”

                “My, uh… sister had a… friend over. It was just a misunderstanding.”

                “What do you mean? What happened?” Lisa pleaded quietly, shutting her eyes for a moment and shaking her head. “I… I know it’s not my business, you don’t have to tell me, but-”

                “No, no, it’s okay. I know it looks… kinda bad, but it’s really not. Just sore,” Peter said, lying somewhat.

                “Did someone drop something near you?”

                “No, it was um…” Peter attempted, realizing there wasn’t a perfect way to phrase it. “Well, she… my sister’s friend… she had us play truth or dare, and it got a little… out of hand, I guess.”

                “Out of hand?”

                “Yeah. She sort of just… um…” Peter said through gritted teeth, hoping to get this part of the conversation over with, given how much obvious pain it was causing Lisa to hear about it as she flinched at nearly every additional innocuous detail. Lifting his foot off the surface of Lisa’s palm, he stomped it lightly back down into her flesh, demonstrating the act he’d experienced on a much grander scale three days before.

                Lisa’s other hand rushed to her face, covering her mouth as another gasp was sucked in.

                “You- you’re not serious… she didn’t a-actually-”

                “Not hard. Really, it’s fine. Not a big deal,” Peter rambled.

                “Oh my God,” Lisa sighed. There was a barely distinguishable crack in her voice here, but the boy could tell she was doing everything in her power to choke it back. Her fingers trembled as they remained cupped over her mouth. “Are… are you okay?”

                “Yes! Seriously!” he said. “I’ll be fine. Believe me, I’ve seen a lot worse. I’m a fighter.” Dumbly he put up his fists in a false show of aggression, nudging his sneakered foot against Lisa’s thumb in a faux-karate kick, and at last earned a nervous half-smile from her, though she remained a little more ashen than before she’d seen his violet forearms.

                “I… guess you are,” she said, holding back a giggle. “Okay, okay, sorry for the… twenty questions… I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to… you know, hide something for my sake.”

                “I know. It’s fine.”

                “Because you don’t,” Lisa insisted. Slowly she lifted up her hand, then propped it up on two fingers into her palm, simulating the shape of legs, and pretended to kick them softly against Peter’s shins in similar fashion. “I’m a fighter, too. And I’ll stick up for my friends.”

                “Thank you,” Peter said, infinitely assuaged to see Lisa’s playful side emerge again just as the door swung open and the eternally tardy Mrs. Baker waddled into the classroom on her pudgy legs with an armful of scribbled notes and manila envelopes. “It means a lot.”