Chapter 102 [Smallville High—Lunch Room]

Peter sat in the corner by himself. Contemplation sagged down on his shoulders. The wedding loomed and with it, Responsibility's harbingers. How am I going to support Gwen if I don't have income? She has the house and ESU. What can I do? He glanced around at the teachers. They don't have concerns like this.

"Hey! What's with the dreary mood, Mr. P? Can't have that! Now can we?" Gwen kissed his cheek. Then she slid into her seat. "How was Journalism?"

"Hmm?" He perked up. "It was great! Mrs. Donnelly really had some great insight. Makes me wish JJJ had me take the class back at Midtown. You know?"

"You didn't?" Disbelief furrowed her brow. "I'd have thought that class would've been a natural for you. Midtown's newspaper was second best in the city in those days." She coughed.

"Behind Central's I'd imagine?" He shook his head.

"With Harry and me hitting the beat, you better believe it, Man of Mine." She rubbed his hand. "Hey. It's going to be okay!" She glanced around to make sure nobody was in earshot. "Did you make the call yet?"

"Call?" He unwrapped his ham sandwich.

She raised an eyebrow. "To the Planet. At least talk to her, Peter.'' She took out a Tupperware container, a fork and a Diet Pepsi.

"But, Gwen, you have the house and ESU. I've got Aunt May and…" He cut off his retort with a bite of wheat, ham, mustard glaze and Asiago.

"Look. We've got all of those things. Together. We'll talk to Aunt May together. Mr. Robertson will help to break the news. I know it. At least you'll have a plan to bring to her." She took a bite of Caesar salad. "Go ahead. I'll watch your sandwich."

He smirked. "Sure? As I recall, you couldn't stop wolfing this or that macaroni and cheese down at the mansion last night."

"Thin ice, Mr. P." Her lip twitched. "I'm going to get that recipe from Mr. Dubois. That is addictive and so bad for my figure." She put her hand on top of his. "What is that saying of the Wall Crawler's? With great power comes great responsibility? Dad heard him say it once. He told me. Be responsible. Make the call."

He rolled his eyes at how easily she'd corralled him into that trap. "You're right." Concession seemed to lighten his mood.

"Learning that already? And some doubt you?" Teasing prompted the smirk on her face. "Go and talk to her." She rooted through her purse. "I had Lex give me the number." She brought out the slip.

"Wish me luck?" He looked over the number once again. Dread numbed him for a split second. "I feel like a traitor."

She shook her head. "Peter, Mr. Jameson fired you for something you didn't do. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Jasmine let you out of any promise. She's willing to support you." She pointed to the number. "Everyone else will understand. We can plan for Aunt May. Nobody's excluding her."

He sighed. Issues had been dealt with. "You've got a point."

"Of course I do! Make it count. I know you will." She kissed him on the cheek. "We've got twenty minutes before our next class."

He slipped into the hallway. He looked around to make sure the coast was clear. Then he dialed his phone. His ear waited through the dial tone.

"Good afternoon. This is Felicity Travers."

Nerves stiffened him and stifled response for a heartbeat. He collected himself. "Yes. Good afternoon, Ms. Travers. My name's Peter Parker."

"Mr. Parker! Yes!" Travers pressed "save" on her latest document. She leaned back in her chair. "I heard what happened! I'm so sorry."

"You…did?" He frowned.

"Jameson should've known better. I've talked to a few people about you. They believe you would never stab someone in the back." Travers brought up the article. "Miss Sullivan talked about how helpful you were with the Octavius piece. I appreciate that."

"Miss Sullivan's a great talent. She makes it easy for any mentor." He checked his watch.

"And you're still doing the internship at the high school?" Travers leaned back in her chair.

"My fiancée and I lost out on the research component at LexCorp when Dr. Connors couldn't continue. We're making the best of things. She's observing more science classes and mentoring students. I'm sitting in on the Journalism class here to get tips on writing different types of articles. Can't hurt to get perspective," he informed her.

"No it definitely does not hurt. Donnelly was a great correspondent in Dallas. I like that you're learning about the other parts of our business, Mr. Parker. Perhaps you might come by for an interview? I'm sorry that I'm booked up all week. I apologize." She sucked in a deep breath.

Relief relaxed him. "That'd be great! I'm getting married on Saturday so I've got a lot going on this week as well. Tuesday next week I'm doing a photography workshop here. So maybe Monday or Wednesday?"

"Let's make it a week from Wednesday. 11 AM all right? Congratulations to your fiancée and you. Give a great workshop. Then we'll talk." Travers checked her phone's calendar.

"That is great for me as well. Thank you." He scribbled some notes.

"Maybe you could send me a copy of that handout for the workshop? I'd be interested in seeing it. One last question, Miss Sullivan mentioned you were working on a feature piece?" Travers requested.

"I'll email the handout when it's finished. Yes I was working on that Talon piece. I have it on the back burner right now though." He checked his watch again.

"I'd be interested in you continuing that for the Planet. I'll speak with Donnelly and Joe Robertson. I'll be in touch, Mr. Parker. Thank you for calling. Have a nice day and enjoy your wedding." She hung up.

Wow. I have an interview in Metropolis. Really? It was that easy? He rushed back into the lunchroom.

Gwen packed up her container. Expectation pressed her look into his eyes. "Well? How'd it go?"

"We just had a great conversation." He smiled. "I've got an interview a week from Wednesday in Metropolis. I'll have to figure this out."

"I'm sure Mr. Reynolds will work with us. We'll tell Lex after school." She pointed to his sandwich. "We've got ten minutes. Please eat something."

"Never say no to you." He smiled before biting back into the sandwich.

"Smart man." She smirked.

Sometimes it paid to have faith…