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Peter and Ned were changing out books at their lockers when you walked by. Ever since the school dance, you and Peter had had several really nice hallway conversations and one lunch together (with Ned and MJ). He was quickly becoming the one person you considered a real friend.
He caught sight of you down the hall and grinned. "Good afternoon," he called out in his perfect British accent. "How is our dear Miss Bennet?"
"Wishing she was at home in bed," you answered, too tired to try for your usual regency banter as another cramp gripped your abdomen. You had taken painkillers an hour and a half ago, and they were finally taking effect. However, they did nothing to alleviate your complete lack of energy due to insomnia that you always felt right before and during the first few days of your period.
Peter took in your blousy Pemberby tee, mom jeans, converse-style sneakers. You were dressed for comfort. Your face was pale, and dark circles faintly purpled your under-eyes. You looked like you had not had a proper night's sleep in days. Your hunched shoulders and shuffled steps said you were tired and in pain. "What's wrong?" he immediately asked, dropping the posh accents and manners.
"Nothing," you hedged, not wanting to discuss the functioning of the female body in the middle of a high school hallway. "Just haven't slept much lately."
"Well, that stinks," Ned shrugged and returned to digging into his locker.
Peter, however, was not convinced. "Where does it hurt?" he asked quietly. "I can read pain in someone's face pretty easily."
"Stomach."
He winced in sympathy, seemed to be raking his brain for a minute, then a look of realization crossed his face. He leaned in so he could talk without anyone else hearing. "It's your...uh....shark week, isn't it."
"Shark week?"
"That's what Aunt May calls it."
You nodded. "It's a good description."
"Hang on a sec." Peter dug into his locker and pulled out a bag of M&Ms. "I don't know if it'll help your tiredness, but Aunt May says chocolate always makes her feel better when she's out of it...like this." He handed you the candy, shyly rubbing the back of his neck, eyes on his sneakers. "I've got ibuprofen too if you need it."
No, it would not give you much energy, but chocolate always made you feel better too. You smiled up at him. It had been a long time since anyone had cared enough to do something like this for you, small as it was.
"Once more, I am in your debt, Mr. Parker," you turned on the regency manners.
"What kind of gentleman would I be if let a damsel-in-distress suffer?" He copied your manners.
On an impulse, you stood on your toes and pecked his cheek. "Thanks, Mr. Darcy," you whispered.
He froze, then turned his gaze shyly to the floor, "No problem, Miss Bennet," he whispered back, grinning widely.