CHAPTER 4

I would have looked into my mutant spider bite last night, but I kind of forgot sometime after lunch. (All these classes burn you out, so don't judge me.) I'm planning on looking it up when I have time in class today.

But so far I haven't gotten a good chance. Instead, I'm stuck in second period Spanish class, trying to decipher what all these basic phrases mean. So far, I know that "Como estas Usted" means "how are you," but only when you're speaking to an adult. Other than that I'm completely lost.

My Spanish teacher wants us all to speak in Spanish as frequently as possible, so he often asks us questions in Spanish, and we're left sitting there awkwardly, unable to respond because we don't know what he's saying. (He probably gets amusement from seeing our inability. And to be fair, I probably would, too.)

The only one in my class who actually can speak Spanish somewhat fluently is Gwen, who my teacher takes a special liking to.

My thoughts drift off to her helping me with Spanish homework, until how I realize how creepy that is, and snap back to reality.

If only confessing attraction to someone was as easy as it sounds.

My Spanish teacher then announces that we'll have to write a brief description of ourselves in Spanish, and I'm officially prepared to bomb this class. The assignment is due next week, but still.

The bell rings before anyone can protest. I head off to English class.

We've been assigned a personal essay in Honors English over what advice we'd tell our younger selves. To no one's surprise, everyone in the class hates this assignment but me, who is eager to tell my younger self all the bad things not to do. (That would be a long list.)

But instead of that, I'm busy trying to find out about that spider bite. I start googling random stuff, until Mrs. Emet catches me.

"Why are you looking up spider bites on Google?" she asks, more intrigued than mad.

Well, I've officially been caught abusing my computer privileges. And I feel ashamed.

I know I am about to break this rule, but it's pretty valid in life in general.

TIP #10: Don't lie to your teachers, unless you want to make a fool out of yourself.

And make a fool of myself I did.

"Um… it's for biology class…." I lie. She's suspicious, but lets me off the hook.

"Please just focus on English, please." Thank God she actually likes me. Some people are not as fortunate.

This is off-topic, but I think it needs to be addressed. I commonly see fellow students say "this teacher HATES me," and I have a hard time believing that there isn't a good reason for it. Throughout my nine years attending school, all of my teachers have at least had some level of fondness toward me. My guess is this is because I'm quiet and actually do what I'm supposed to do, as opposed to kids who are loud and act stupid just for the sake of it. They might also feel slightly sorry for me for some reason.

So if a teacher is being harder on you than other kids, it's probably because you're doing something annoying or out of line. So before making snap judgements on teachers, just take a moment to reevaluate yourself.

TIP #11: If a teacher doesn't like you, it's probably your fault. Take a moment to look at yourself before instantly hating them back.

I go back to writing my essay, and think about what advice I would tell my younger self. All I can think of is "do your homework." I sigh as I stare at the screen until the bell rings.

The bell rings, and I'm ready to find out what's happening to me,

I've spent the past ten minutes in study hall googling "mutated spider bite," and after scrolling past poorly-drawn manga about humanoid spiders, I finally found an article by The Future Foundation (research company founded by Reed Richards, who Harry says I have a "man crush" on) which states that these mutant animals, which Future Foundation had a big role in, could potentially transmit their enhancements via body fluid contact, but that the probability of this is extremely rare and no cases have been reported.

So I'm the only one who's gotten superpowers by this experiment. I can't tell if that's really cool or really creepy. I honestly feel like a specimen now more than a person.

The realization hits me: I have somehow gotten superpowers from a freak accident. Just like how the skinny kid from Brooklyn was somehow chosen to be the world's first superhuman. Or how a small group of scientists traveled to a parallel dimension and somehow survived to become the world's greatest scientific sensations. Or how an alcoholic billionaire was kidnapped and somehow had just the right resources to create the first functioning exoskeleton.

I look at the stories of all these amazing people, and they all end in brightly colored outfits.

I can't believe I'm actually doing this.