Chapter One
Everybody hates Peter Parker
Running for his life was normal part of Peter's day, avoiding abuse dealt to him by his larger pursuers. He often hid away in the Janitor's closet as a means of escape, but the violent jock was growing wise to his hiding places. Numerous times he'd found Peter cowering away in hiding, before dragging him off to a secluded spot to be beaten or ridiculed. It was just a bit of fun to Flash, like a twisted game of hide and seek. It left him with little choice, but to enter a very taboo place.
He was forced to enter the girl's bathroom, a place he'd never dared to go; not without the extreme desperation he was faced with. Thankfully no one was there when he ducked inside, huffing and puffing with a pounding heart. He shut himself inside of one of the cubicles, scrambling to lock the door with shaky hands. The cubical had graffiti on it, poorly spelled comments that people had left. Strangely someone wrote R.I.P in red lettering, which unnerved him slightly. It made the filthy toilets that much more undesirable.
I hope Aunt May never hears about this. She'd.. I don't even want to think about it. He thought, sitting on the toilet, pressing his face into his hands.
He heard Flash and his mob outside, searching for him. "Where's Parker?" Flash growled at one of his 'friends'.
"Please, god. Don't let him find me," Peter whispered, drawing his knees up to his chest. He was still nursing bruises from his previous encounter with Flash, big dark purple bruises that covered his body.
He held his breath when the door to the girl's bathroom creaked open and released a shaky sigh when he heard the girls who entered begin talking amongst themselves.
"I saw Flash lurking around," one of them scoffed, "He's such a creep."
"Well if you think so," another of the girls sounded reluctant to agree, "He's sort of cute though. You gotta admit it."
"MJ, you need to rethink your taste in men. He's as appealing as a caveman," the other girl argued, clicking her tongue in disgust.
Peter's lips twitched in slight amusement as he listened to them, holding his breath to contain his nerves. He recognised MJ's nickname because she was notably pretty and well known for her rebellious, partying nature. Her real name was Mary Jane Watson that much he knew because they shared a few classes, but doubted she knew as much about him. They'd never spoken to each other before and Peter was certain they never would.
"He's nothing, but a bully," MJ's friend went on to say. Peter imagined her wagging her finger at the red head as she spoke.
"Honestly Gwen, you don't know the whole story. I tutor Flash sometimes, he's a nice guy given the chance," MJ defended the violent jock.
Nice guy? Peter thought, creasing his brow in the beginnings of a resentful frown.
"I get it. He's got you with the whole bad boy thing. Well you hit the Jackpot there. There's no one nastier in Midtown High," Gwen retorted and was met with cold silence.
He heard the door creak open again and the two girl's heels clicking as they left the toilets. After suffering a tense silence within the pungent toilet, listening to his own shaky breaths, he unlocked the cubical and pushed the door open with the sweaty palm of his hand.
Darting for the exit, a flurry of sudden noises sent the fearful teenager scurrying back to the toilet again and his temporary courage toppling like an unsteady tower.
"Pull yourself together, Parker," he sighed in a tone that was suggestively apologetic as if pitying his frazzled nerves. Clenching his fists, he thrust his arm forward and pulled the door open, feeling his heart drop to the floor afterwards.
The school hallway stretched out before him like a glorious path to freedom, empty of any people to witness his disgraceful act of having been in the girl's toilets.
Peter pulled the sleeves of his hand-me-down sweater up, rolling his wrist to glimpse his watch. It was around lunch time; an hour which left Peter vulnerable. Niggling worries probed through the back of his mind, sparking up his restless anxiety. He hoped the teachers were feeling charitable enough to let him eat his lunch in the staff room again. It seemed to him that it was the only place to avoid Flash's wrath.
He made the tense journey to his locker, knowing that at any moment he could be found by Flash, but luckily he was nowhere to be seen. Already eating, Peter hoped, but feared that the hunt for him was on.
Carved deep into the metal frame of the door were various insults directed at Peter. The first day he'd moved his stuff into the locker it had been relatively new, but it had since suffered from Peter's ownership and those who disliked the boy.
The locker door made a grinding noise as Peter pulled the door open. Glancing briefly at the contents he found that all seemed and undisturbed inside, except for the putrid smell attacking Peter's senses. It was unmistakable, the aroma of rotten eggs. The stink lingered around his bag and upon opening it; Peter found his books and homework soiled in the yolk of a bad egg.
"Oh sh-" he caught himself mid curse, hearing Aunt May's disapproving voice in his mind.
He gently plucked his homework assignments out of the gooey mess and hopelessly tried to clean them with the sleeve of his sweater. The egg stains smeared across the ink, blurring his hand-writing into illegible blots.
"No!" Peter exclaimed, "There's gotta be a way I can-" he cut himself off and started blowing the soggy pages. "It's useless," he sighed, shaking his head in disbelief.
The homework assignments were due to be handed in that week. "I'm screwed," he said, feeling his chest tighten with panic. "Totally screwed."
Searching his bag again he couldn't find the lunch that Aunt May had prepared for him, just the crumbs. Ruining his homework wasn't enough for them; he was forced to go hungry as well.
"Yeah you are screwed, Parker," a menacing voice sneered from behind.
