AN: So this is AU, obviously. While it takes place in the Amazing Spider-Man movie-verse, the major change I'm making is that Gwen Stacy lives. Ships include Harry x Bella, Peter x MJ, and Gwen x Mike Newton. So this should be fun.

Naturally, I wasn't very happy to be shipped off again. Mom told me I didn't have to go to Forks if I didn't want to- yeah, right. Just like New York this summer. I couldn't believe it- she wanted to send me away again despite all that happened. Despite the fact that I fell in love with a supervillain.

The sad thing was that Mom was one of the few people I confided to about my summer romance. Not that she cared that much. Because she was lonely when she wasn't traveling with Phill. I was sick of the fighting, of my needs never being met. After all, the therapy wasn't an ongoing thing, since teachers and minor league baseball players don't make that much money. And I was a tough girl, I was fine- right?

Some days, I wasn't sure what the answer was.

"Are you sure about this?" Mom asked as she parked the convertible in the airport parking lot. "I won't be upset if you change your mind-"

"I'm sure. I want to go, Mom." That lie had become easier to tell.

"If you're sure," she said with a smile and shrug. She got out of the car. "Let's get going, then."

"Thanks, Mom, for driving me here," I said. "I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem!" she replied cheerily as she donned her favorite straw hat.

We went through check-in and said our goodbyes before I'd crossed the point of no return.

"I love you, Bells," Mom had said. Her face grew serious for once. "Promise me that you'll be good?"

"I will," I said. "I love you, Mom."

"Try to stay away from boys," she said.

I just faked a smile, and then turned, and left.

Maybe I shouldn't have been so cold. I just was ready to move on with my life. I talked to my cousin, Peter, about this than I did Mom. Oh well. Whatever. I had plenty of time to agonize over how I could've done better on the plane ride. When I got off the plane, I tripped into a young woman with curly red hair. I tried to apologize, but she hissed at me like some sort of cat. Anyway, I got luggage and headed for my dad, who stood awkwardly and silently.

He just nodded at me as I approached, and started towards the car. I put my luggage in the back, and then got in the shotgun seat of the cop car. For the first ten minutes, it was silent. Then I decided I should start talking.

"Did you have a nice summer, Dad?" I asked.

"Yeah. You?"

"Not the greatest, but I got some great Spider-Man photos," I said.

"Really?" he frowned. "I don't want you getting close to any vigilantes."

"Dad, he saved New York," I said. "Single-handedly."

"Guys like that, they're taking the law into their own hands," he said. "They're violent, and they don't care about society's rules. That's clear. It's only a matter of time before somebody dies."

That was when I decided that telling Dad about any more of my summer was definitely off the table.

"Well, I found a great car for you," he said.

"Really?" I asked.

"Chevy pickup, bought it off of Billy Black, remember him?" Dad asked.

"Yeah," I said. "It sounds really cool."

"It's from the sixties, and Jacob fixed it up," Dad continued. "Oh, and your motorcycle got here okay."

"Oh thank god," I said.

"I wish you didn't have it, though," Dad said. "Remember what I told you about how the motorcyclist always comes off badly? And remember how klutzy you are?"

I shrugged, folding my arms over my chest. "I'll only ride it on sunny days, Dad."

"That better be a promise."

"Cross my heart."

"Good." He relaxed a little, letting up on his grip on the steering wheel. "We're here."

I glanced out the window. Naturally, it was pouring. I pulled up my hood as preparation. Home sweet home. It was a small white suburban house. I stepped out and was assaulted by the rain. I hurried over to the trunk and pulled out my luggage. Dad helped me carry it into the house, and then I took it up the stairs to my room. I hadn't visited that room for three years.

I set my two suitcases, duffel bag, and backpack onto the bed that was decorated with old floral bedsheets from Grandma Swan and a quilt that had been made by her. I shut the door. It was just a ritual that made me feel better. I also put in my earbuds and listened to the Nirvana album that Phil had gotten for me for Christmas.

I first unpacked my clothes. Not much of my wardrobe came with me. Mom and I had to scavenge for appropriate winter clothes, especially since winter wasn't exactly a thing in Phoenix. But whatever. I re-folded everything before putting it into the wooden dresser with a tiny lamp on it, and lined my shoes up at the foot of it. I smiled, feeling just a little more in control of the situation.

Then came the duffel bag. All my hygiene stuff was in it, like my strawberry shampoo, perfume, and lotion from Bath and Body Works. I set that up in the bathroom I'd be sharing with Dad. My books were also in there. I placed them on the bedside table- my battered copy of Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, and Romeo and Juliet. I then grabbed my charging cable for my laptop, which I pulled out of my bright orange Jansport backpack, and plugged it in.

While I waited for the service to dial up, I locked my door, closed my blinds, and confronted the assortment I'd brought with me in the duffel bag. It was all in a folder that closed completely. Hand trembling, I pulled it out, and opened it.

Letters and photos spilled onto the quilt. I'd never let Dad see any of these. He had no idea that I'd dated Harry Osborn, the New Goblin. And I was going to keep it that way.