"Hey, Peter! Haven't seen you around lately!" Harry said, acting as if nothing had happened. Peter eyed him and responded, "I've been busy." "So, you know Harry Osborn?" Jameson asked Peter, half interested. "Yeah. Been best friends since high school." Harry said, wrapping his arm around Peter's shoulders. Yeah, right, thought Peter.

"So, Mr. Osborn, what business do you have with me?" Mr. Jameson asked. "I'd to complain about an article your wrote!" He said, slamming down a copy of yesterday's paper on his desk. "Its not another Spider-Man is innocent blab, is it?" Jameson said, rolling his eyes. "Hell no. I think that freak should be locked away forever!" Harry concurred. Yeah, Peter thought. It's kinda ironic to hear that from a dude who's father's a complete psychopath. But, Harry didn't know that. So, Peter figured he had a right to think Spider-Man was a complete loon. Everyone else did.

"You wrote that my father's company is responsible for that, that, green thing!" "The Goblin, you mean?" Peter asked. "Yeah, him." "Well, Mr. Osborn, I assure you that I didn't realize you'd be angry at this." "Wadda mean?" Harry argued. "Of course you did!" "Look, after the photos Parker's given me, the resemblance of the glider that goblin has to the one your father was constructing on before it was stolen is identical!" Harry looked at Peter. "Hell no! Don't drag me into this! I just did it for the paycheck!"

Harry barged out of the room. Poor Harry. He was so clueless. But, life is more painless for the brainless. Plus, he had the girl now. How the hell did that happen, anyway? I mean, one minute, Mary Jane was waiting for him! The next thing he knew, she was gone! Damn, life flies when your having fun, huh?

Peter brought home some money for Aunt May later that evening. She had been preparing dinner for Peter and herself. Peter knew what it was as soon as he got a whiff of it as he came through the door. It was mashed potatoes and pot roast, one of his favorites. "Hi Aunt May!" "Why, hello, Peter! Is it time already! My, I must have lost track! Dinner's not finished yet!" "Its okay, Aunt May. I can help you." He walked into the kitchen, secretly slipping money into her purse. "I though you were terrible at home and careers in high school!" He laughed. "Aunt May, that was years ago." He said, washing his hands.

"Will Mary Jane be joining us? Oh, by the way, how did the date go?" 'It…uh…went fine, Aunt May." "Oh, good. So, will she be coming?" "No, no, she…uh…had an audition." "Oh, that's wonderful! Now, pass me the gravy, will you?" As Peter pretended to help his aunt, he knew he had done the right thing, though the guilt was boiling him over. He didn't want his aunt to worry about him. He could do things on his own.

The meal turned out to be delicious. "My, Peter! You're quite the cook!" "Aunt May, you said that when I brought home burnt cookies that hadn't risen up home for seventh grade. You said they were wonderful, and ate them all even though I mixed up the sugar and salt!" His aunt laughed. "Well, they were perfectly good, anyway!" Peter smiled. He loved his aunt.

As shoved some mashed potatoes down his throat, and felt the warm, creamy gravy trickle down his parched throat, his aunt asked him more about his 'date'. "Did you see a movie?" "Yeah. We did." "Which one?" "Oh, I don't recall the name. But, it was a romance girly-girl movie." She laughed. "Of course!"

As he helped clean up the plates, his aunt stared out the door. A beautiful, redheaded babe stood at the door. She didn't knock at all. She didn't even know that Peter knew she was there. She was thinking about something, staring at her shoes. Peter answered the door. "Mary Jane?" She jumped. "Ooh! Peter!" "What are you doing here?" "I wanted to…apologize for last night. I…uh…forgot about out date!" "You…forgot? You…didn't even leave your home, you mean?" "Uh…yeah. Sorry. We'll make it up though! How about this weekend?" Peter sighed. "You know, M.J., I actually don't think I'm free this weekend." "Ooh. Okay then. Maybe some other time." He gave a slight nod. "Yeah. Maybe."

He slammed the door. That liar. What, was he the only one he could count on these days? No, he had Aunt May. Aunt May would follow him to the ends of the earth. "Aunt May, I think I'll stay over tonight, if you don't mind." "Ooh, okay. Only if you want, though." She lied. She always wised Peter would stay late. She enjoyed the company so much, and felt a lot safer with him around.

As Peter went into his old room much later that night, a tear dripped down his cheek. And more fell until he had drifted off into a dream.