Your usual spot — second row from the back, next to the window where the morning sun bleeds through the grime — is waiting for you. You slide into the cold plastic chair, the familiar ache settling in your bones.

Across the room, Peter Parker is leaning forward, his elbows on his desk, animatedly describing something with his hands. Ned is nodding along, grinning like an idiot, while Michelle, seated beside him, rolls her eyes but doesn't bother to hide the small quirk at the corner of her lips.

Peter's head jerks up mid-sentence. His eyes widen, just barely, before he smooths his expression. He blinks once, scanning the room quickly — and his gaze lands on you.

For half a second, his mouth opens, as if to say something.

Then the door slams open.

Ned groans quietly. Michelle picks up her book, pointedly ignoring him.

Peter's eyes flicker back to you for just a second longer than necessary.

<Narrator> A flicker. A pause. Then he turns back to Flash, a forced smile on his face.