Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Spider-Man in any way.

"I'm sorry Peter. I have to go. Those things- those people you fight, one day they'll kill me. One day they'll kill you. And I just can't take it anymore." Gwen turned to look at him one more time before climbing into the rusted cab. "I'm sorry."

Peter's head slammed into the large overhead desk light as he shook himself from the crude memory. Standing up from his previous position, head throbbing from a night of resting on an old table, Peter threw on a clean sweatshirt and bounded down the stairs.

Grabbing his back pack and skateboard, he headed toward the door, the repainted letters of their address clearly visible on the glass. "Love you Aunt May!" Peter yelled before carefully shutting the fragile door behind him.

"Parker!" Peter cringed as the arrogant voice of Flash echoed down the hall. "Hey, Parker!" Peter ignored Flash's remarks, shoving his books and skateboard into his locker. "Are you giving me the silent treatment, Parker? Oh, I'm really hurt." Resisting throwing Flash into the nearby trophy case was getting more and more difficult with each step Flash took.

"Gonna listen to me now Parker, or am I going to have to make you?" Peter stopped as Flash's warm breath touched with his neck, completely unresposive. "I think I'm gonna have to choose the latter."

Peter caught the first swing, but missed the second, wincing as Flash's large fist came into contact with his stomach, Flash's knee again following suit. "Poor little Parker, can't take the punch."

Peter collapsed against the lockers, his back sliding down until he was sitting, cradling his stomach. He heaved as he heard Flash tramp down the hall, laughing with the rest of his friends.

"I hope you aren't bleeding internally, because that would be unfortunate." Peter's aching head bobbed up for a moment, surprised by the tall blonde girl standing before him.

"The name's Hannaman. Jesseca Hannaman. But you can call me Jesse." The girl smiled, her bright eyes studying Peter's slumped form. "I hope you don't mind that I took a few pictures of you getting beat up. For evidence."

Peter continued to ponder the odd girl.

" I would've kicked that boy where, you know, males prefer not to be kicked, but I was too busy taking the pictures." Peter looked the girl up and down. Her cropped, pale blonde hair was very short, covering her forehead in an almost-white color. Her face was pale, like her hair, and her eyes were a bright, matalic blue. Peter watched as the girl, Jesse, stuck out her hand for him to shake. He took it slowly, his head still buzzing from Flash's hits. She helped pull him up off the ground and patted his jacket.

"Here you go," Jesse stated as she handed Peter back his beaten camera.

"Thanks. I guess I'll be seeing you around, Jesseca." Peter nodded shorty at the girl and started down the hall. It didn't take long before he heard Jesse's footsteps run to meet him.

"Actually, I have class with you. So, I guess I'll just accompany you on your way to English." Jesse smiled widly, revealing two rows of perfectly polished white teeth.

"How did you know I have English right now?"

"It's on your schedule," Jesse answered as she followed Peter through the hall.

"How-how did you get my schedule?" Peter stuttered as they turned a corner, Mr. Gardner's English classroon now in sight.

"It was in your backpack." Peter stopped at the door, turning to look at the curious girl. "Don't think about it too hard about it, Mr. Parker."

Peter ran a quick hand through his thick hair, about to walk into the classroom. "Oh, and Parker?" Jesse said, making Peter turn back again. "It's just Jesse," she whispered, slipping into the room past Peter, who was left staring as the high-pitchef bell rang.

Thank you so so much for reading! Please review!

Love,

Birdy