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It was kinda shocking, all things considered. Ned was bad at planning on the fly. He just couldn’t come up with advice in the heat of the moment. But, when he had a chance to sit down and think things out, he was hella good with advice. In fact, people were saying he was the best agony aunt the school had ever had.
It made him cooler, which Peter loved for him. Being popular really mattered to Ned. While it didn’t matter to Peter, he liked watching people get Ned’s name right and smile at him more. Ned was awesome, and the whole world should recognize that.
He walked into the library for his free period through to the quiet but not silent area, and MJ smiled at him. “Hey, you check out Ned’s column yet?”
“Um, no,” he said. Searching around for an excuse, he said, “Phone died.”
Their newspaper had stopped having a print edition two years ago. She studied him silently, and he had a sinking feeling that she had him all figured out. But it was just paranoia, right? Tons of people must have written letters to Ned. There was a good possibility that his wasn’t picked. And, even if his was picked, MJ wouldn’t know he wrote it, right?
She held out her phone, “You can use mine.”
She knew. There was no way she would offer to let him use her phone if she didn’t know and wasn’t a sadist. He mumbled his thanks. He didn’t have to scroll by the lunch menu, student government meeting notes, locker privacy debates, sports results or any of the rest of it. MJ had it opened to “Help Me, Obi-Ned Ken-Leeds-i.”
He read the first one, a girl wanting advice about grief after a dog dies; Ned spoke about letting yourself feel sad, volunteering at dog shelters and fostering because her dog wouldn’t want her to be lonely. It had links to shelter websites for volunteer opportunities.
The next one was about test nerves, and Ned listed off all the ways he found useful for combating nerves, what had helped him at the SATs and AcaDeca — everything from making study guides beforehand to picturing the room being empty to internal mantras of just “You are Ned Leeds and you have got this.” He finished by saying that the person should check in with the guidance counselors. The school had six of them, and they weren’t just for when someone got in trouble. You could make an appointment at any time, and it was confidential. There was a link.
The third and final one was from a guy who was in love with his best friend who was a guy. His best friend didn’t even know he was bisexual. His best friend kept giving him girl advice, and it was tearing the guy apart. He finished by saying. “He’s incredible, and he doesn’t see it. He’s always pushing me at girls, and I don’t want them. It kills me a little. But I’m terrified that I could tell him and ruin our friendship. So maybe I should just shut up and be pleased I have him in my life? My life would suck without him. I don’t know what to do. Part of me thinks I should do a big romantic thing because if he secretly has feelings for me, he would really like it. But if he doesn’t have feelings for me, it could ruin everything. I hoped it was a crush and would fade, but it gets worse all the time. It’s lasted through bad haircuts, the worst fad obsessions and several disgusting illnesses. It’s not going anywhere. I need your advice. Help me, Obi-Ned Ken-Leeds-i, you are my only hope.” It’s signed “Massive Mess.”
Ned wrote back, “Dear Massive Mess, take a deep breath, my dude. It’s gonna be okay; you’re gonna be okay. One in six people in our generation identifies as part of the LGBTQIA+ community. And that’s the people who admitted it on a survey; imagine how many people are keeping it quiet. That means there’s a fair chance your best friend might be interested. And, even if he isn’t, we’re the most tolerant generation in modern history. So, ask yourself if it’s safe to share your feelings, and if it is, I think you should consider doing it. I’m not advocating putting yourself in danger or opening yourself up to bullying, but being vulnerable isn’t bad. I’m not going to pressure you; you have to make this choice. Summer break is coming up, so if it goes terribly, you can avoid him for a while, and if it goes great, you have a whole summer to hang out together.
“You said he likes romantic gestures, but you’re afraid of going big as it could backfire. Why not make him a care package of stuff you both love? It doesn’t have to be extravagant, maybe just photos and stuff from inside jokes or shared interests, and add a note telling him how you feel and asking him out for an activity you could do as a date or friends and saying that, if he wants to stay just friends it’s totally fine. Make sure he knows you love him as a friend first and foremost. He’s your best friend for a reason, right? If he’s a good guy, even if he doesn’t like you back, he won’t let it ruin your friendship.
“For everyone reading this, let’s take note, maybe we should give our friends more room to breathe and less advice unless they ask for it. I probably give my best friend Peter Parker too much advice. But, please let the record show, he is currently single and pretty much the coolest person in this school.”
Peter stared at it. He tried to breathe normally. He must have failed as MJ said, “You okay?” He gave a nod but couldn’t reply. She reached out to take her phone and ended up prying it from his hand. “It could have been worse.”
“I don’t,” he said, then shook his head and tried again, “It’s a great column this week. I don’t know what you mean. Great advice all around.”
“Peter,” she said gently.
“He finished his response to my plea for help telling him I love him with a singles ad for me.” He studied her, “Why didn’t you just let me pretend my phone was dead?”
“Because you were gonna read it sometime between now and shop class and I wanted to give you as much time as possible to calm down,” she shrugged.
“Maybe I can just go fake sick in the nurse’s office for shop.”
“Hey, massive mess, don’t be a coward, he gave you a roadmap of how to court him. You’re going to go to shop and then, while he’s at band, you are going to go and make him a care package of cute nerdy junk.”
“MJ, he literally ended by trying to set me up with the student body.”
She shrugged, “Only because he doesn’t know. You’re gonna make him a care package and then you’re going to ruin my life being insufferably sweet with one another.”
He opened his backpack and took out his books, doing chem homework. A small part of his brain lingered on ideas of things he could put in the care package. Then he went to shop where he had to be torturously close to Ned, who smelled good and was smiling and asked, “Have you seen the paper today?”
Peter forced himself to smile and roll his eyes. “Follow your own advice, Ned. You can’t say back off pushing relationship advice and then immediately try to get me a date.”
“You haven’t gone on a date in ages,” Ned replied, and Peter just rolled his eyes again. Ned asked, “You angry?”
Speaking honestly, Peter said, “I’m never angry at you.”
When school ended, he went straight to the craft store and then to the kids’ section where big barrels of ceramic beads that sparkled and had letters waited for children to make bracelets. There were two little girls there. He didn’t talk to them; he didn’t want people to think he was there to talk to children. Instead, he made two friendship bracelets quickly. One said “Kylo Ren Is a Neo-Nazi.” The other read “Reylo Is Abuse.” It was a call a response between him and Ned whenever someone brought up shipping in the new Star Wars movies. Ned would call Kylo a Neo-Nazi, and Peter would agree that Reylo was horrifying. He thought it would make Ned laugh to have a bracelet that was sparkly and purple and green with it written on.
He went from the craft store to the LEGO store and made minifigs of the two of them, making sure their outfits were something they would actually wear so that they were recognizably them. He gave himself a beaker and Ned a French horn to make it even more obvious.
He went to a bodega to buy a few bars of Choc Nut and a bag of White Rabbit chews. They were Ned’s favorites, and they always ate them when playing video games at his house. His final stop was at the AMC between their homes. John Boyega had a new action movie that they hadn’t seen yet. He bought two tickets for Friday. Then, at home, he went through his shoebox of photos and found some great ones of them laughing and hanging on each other over the years. They were from camping trips, HeroCon, middle school dances. He put everything into a box from Amazon — he was grateful May liked to order so much. He kept the “Reylo” bracelet for himself; it made the bracelets a set.
He got a notebook and wrote, “Dear Ned, if you want to pretend this is a friendship box, that’s totally cool. If you want to see the new John Boyega as a date, that would be cool too. Or we can go as friends. Because you’re my best friend, and you always will be. But please stop trying to set me up with people. I’m a massive mess, but I’m trying not to be.” He went back and forth on signing it with the word love. Eventually, he wrote, “Always yours, Peter.” He put the note in the box and closed it.
Looking at the time, he realized he would have to run to Ned’s house to get there before he did. He could swing. But, with the time it would take to get the suit off and hidden, it wouldn’t be a time saver. As it was, he literally sprinted.
Ned didn’t live in an apartment. He lived in a house with his mom and dad, and grandmother. His three older siblings had either moved out or were still at college for the year. At this time of day, only one person was home. Ned’s lola opened the door and smiled at Peter, pulling him in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. They talked to each other through gestures and the bits of Tagalog he knew from hanging out at Ned’s house for over a decade. He asked to leave a gift for Ned. He promised her he wasn’t hungry and didn’t need to be fed. He rushed up to Ned’s room, left the box on the bed and rushed back down the stairs. “Salamat, Lola,” he said, thanking her and kissing her on the cheek before running out.
He left and felt like he was gonna explode from stress. There was no going back now. His cell phone rang, and he almost had a heart attack when the noise surprised him. He assumed that Ned was already home and calling him. He pulled it out and fumbled it. His sticky fingers managed to keep it in his hand. He breathed slowly. It wasn’t Ned; it was Mr. Stark.
He breathed slowly and answered, trying to sound like he wasn’t having a brutal breakdown, “Hey, Mr. Stark.”
“You sound sad, why do you sound sad?”
“I’m fine,” he said, forcing a laugh. “How are you?”
“I’m actually fine, not lying like you,” said Mr. Stark. “You’re not patrolling? You’re always patrolling this time of day. But, you’re not in the suit and you sound sad.”
“Do you really want to be a fifty-year-old man who is neck deep in the love life of a seventeen-year-old?”
“I’m forty-seven,” protested Mr. Stark.
“I just might have messed up my friendship with Ned,” he said.
“Because of your love life? Are you and Ted fighting over a girl?”
“No, no, nothing like that. I just,” he sighed. He took his phone from his face and raked his fingers over his scalp. “I might have screwed it up, really badly.”
“Talk to me, what did you do. It’s me — no judgement.” He spilled it all in a torrent of words, just how badly he had screwed himself. He felt himself hyperventilating as he walked back home. Mr. Stark said, “Okay, okay, calm down, spiderling. He literally told you to make him a love box.”
“He also told the whole school to date me,” he replied, letting himself into his apartment. He shut the door and then went to his bedroom where he flung himself onto his bed.
“Because he didn’t realize he had other options,” said Mr. Stark. “Look, he’s already promised to be your friend. You haven’t ruined your friendship. Worst comes to worst, you spent money on a friendship box, and you have to quietly nurse a broken heart. But, on the other hand, you could end up with a boyfriend.” He started having trouble breathing again. “Peter, you have to calm down.”
“I put the box in his room and now it’s all up to him and I’m just… he’s my best friend, Mr. Stark.”
“Yeah, Peter, he’s your best friend, that’s why it’s going to be okay.”
There was a knock at his front door, “Oh no, I think I have to go. I think Ned is here.”
“Well, check, I’ll stay on the phone.”
“Aren’t you, like, busy, Mr. Stark?”
“I’m incredibly busy, I’m the most sought after, busy person you know. And I can stay on the phone as long as you need, kid.”
Peter climbed out of bed, went to the front door, looked out the peephole and saw Ned. He took a deep breath, “Yeah, I should go.”
“Okay, text me later, remember that I’m always here for you. I’m here for Peter Parker, not just Spider-Man.”
“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He hung up and took what he hoped would be a calming breath before opening the door.
Ned was wearing the Kylo Ren bracelet. “Hey,” said Peter.
“Hey,” said Ned.
“How was band?”
“Good, can I come in?”
“Yeah, totally, sorry,” Peter stopped blocking the door. And let Ned into the apartment.
“I’m sorry I told the school you’re single.”
Peter shrugged, “It’s okay.”
“No it’s not,” Ned replied. “So you’re Massive Mess?”
“We can pretend I’m not if you want,” Peter said.
Ned nodded, “So, Friday, I think we’re probably gonna have to see this movie twice.”
Peter was thrown by the words and said, “I know he’s been making some art house stuff, but I’m pretty sure that this is an action film. I don’t think the plot is going to be hard to follow.”
“Yeah but we’re gonna miss half of it making out,” said Ned with a grin.
Peter gave a surprised bark of laughter, “Oh, oh. Well… I’m still not sure we’ll have to see it twice to be honest. I think the whole plot is, like, John Boyega has a big gun and a big sword, and he really hates aliens and is going to save humanity.” He reached for Ned’s hand, “So, it’s a date?”
“Yeah, totally,” said Ned. “I really liked everything in the box. I wouldn’t have asked for gifts if I knew it was about me. I loved the pictures of us.”
Peter laughed, “I liked looking through the old pictures and picking them. And I liked that it gave us fake cover; you could have taken the out and almost saved my dignity. It was good advice. You’re really good at your advice column.”
“Except the bit where you said you hated that I kept trying to help your love life and I went and told the school you’re single.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t great,” agreed Peter. “But you can make it up to me.”
“How?” asked Ned.
“You could kiss me?” offered Peter. “Maybe? If you want?”
Ned grinned and leaned in. And they bumped noses but, whatever, it was perfect. He was kissing Ned — it was perfect. He was kissing Ned.
His fingers found Ned’s wrist as they pulled apart to breathe, and Ned said, “We need to get a bracelet for you.”
“I have one; I made ’em as friendship bracelets but I figured mine would go in a drawer if you wanted to pretend this didn’t happen.”
He pulled it from his pocket where it had been since he paid for them. Ned’s was purple and green; Peter’s was blue and red — their favorite colors. Ned smiled and took it from him, tying it onto Peter’s wrist.
“Perfect,” said Ned, “a matched set. Because shipping them is creepy as he’s a Neo-Nazi.”
“And the relationship is abusive,” Peter added.
“Yeah,” said Ned, still holding Peter’s hand, playing with his fingers. “Did you get the Probe Droid LEGO you were talking about?”
“It came a couple of days ago; I didn’t want to open it without you,” Peter tugged him towards his bedroom to look at the kit.
By the time May came in an hour later, Peter was in Ned’s lap on the floor, straddling him as they kissed, still-sealed bags of LEGO blocks scattered around them. She took in the sight and said, “Gender-blind casting of Romeo and Juliet at school?”
Peter saw the out they were being offered, but a small glance exchanged with Ned made him say, “No.”
“Okay,” May nodded. “Well, you two can pick what we’re ordering for dinner, but the bedroom door stays open.”
“Y’know the age of consent in New York is seventeen? So, the door can be closed,” Ned called after her.
“Great advice, Ned. It ain’t happening,” she called back.
Peter just shook his head and leaned down for another kiss.