Ever heard of the Avengers? Of course you have. They saved New York from an alien invasion and I guess, the world. I myself witnessed Iron Man flying through Queens at supersonic speeds with a fleet of aliens on bikes quickly behind him. The day after, the entire world realized two things: We were not alone and there were people with abilities far exceeding those of normal humans. I am one of those people. My name is Peter Parker. I am 16 years old and under a tri-weave, armor-mesh costume of red and blue, I am the spectacular/amazing/astonishing Spider-Man. You may know about me. I've been caught on film a few times, a couple dozen pictures snapped, and I have a fanpage online created by a girl at school that hates me.
Having a secret identity is tough too. I walk through the halls, hearing people talk about the Spider-Man and then immediately give me, the nerdy kid with a worn messenger bag and glasses, a look of absolute disgust. It makes me insanely mad yet insanely happy as well. All these hypocritical teens who think they know better than others, unaware that I probably saved some of them out here. As I walk to my next block, Chemistry 11AA, I spot Gwen talking to Eddie Brock, a senior and one of my best friends. I see her grab his hand and squeeze tight before freeing it and letting out a squeaky laugh. I walk quickly to the door and act like I don't notice them. Gwen's eyes and mine meet and the smile drops from her face. I think I'm wearing a scowl.
"Hey, Pete. Where were you yesterday? You didn't answer when I texted you." she says as I stop in front of the doorway.
"Oh, I was sick. Had a cold or something. Aunt May didn't want me catching a little girl like you sick." I say. It's not totally a lie. I had convinced my aunt who I live with that I was sick with some kind of bug. I waited until she left for a trip to New Jersey with some girlfriends and suited up. I was on the hunt of a skilled robber. He had stolen 2 million from online accounts. I made an algorithm to track him, seeing all his IP addresses and the tech he used to commit the crimes. Just a little after five o' clock in the afternoon, I followed his last transaction to an ATM in Times Square. I had found the suspect. But just then, a car chase was in progress underneath me. And I had to act.
"Crap." I muttered, swinging down from the flagpole I was perched upon and using my momentum to propel myself to the wall below me.
I gave one last look at the crook stealing from the ATM and saw him stop his activity when the speeding car passed him. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head.
I'll get you again. You won't stop.
I leapt against the brick wall and I ran along it, my powers allowing me to stick to the wall with the ability to control the inter-atomized forces between myself and another object. If that makes no sense to you, it's fine. Basically, my body is different. All because of a genetically-altered spider bite. But I'll get into that later. Anyways, so there I was, running along the way before I pressed my two fingers between my right palm, a long stream of web-like adhesive shooting out of specialized capsules (of my own invention BTW) and attaching itself to the ledge of a building across the street. I pulled hard on the web and pulled myself across the large gap, the brisk October air soaring through my suit as I spotted the getaway car, with two police vehicles behind it. The sports car was fast. Swerving through traffic and running up the sidewalk while the NYPD were struggling to catch up. I puffed my chest out and outstretched my arms, soaring over 100 feet to the ground before shooting out another web, the adhesive sticking to a window pane and letting me level myself to the street below. I watched the sports car tear off a taxi's rear bumper and slide into a big-rig truck, the sports car losing a tire that bounced right at me. I held onto the web with my left hand and webbed the soaring tire, the weight pulling me down and sending me closer to the road. I groaned in annoyance, tip-toeing across the asphalt before hoisting the tire behind me and stopping completely, the suspect's car speeding off into the dusk of New York. I saw the squad cars approaching and quickly thought of something.
I shot out two strong web strands at opposite side of the road, forming a slingshot formation and pulling back hard. My arms began to shake from the force I was exterting on them and I made sure my stance was correct before loosening my grip on the webs and flying forward with great speed. I screamed in excitement and joy, soaring high into the air and above the getaway car. I pulled the tire's web from my back and swung it forward, giving me an extra boost as the tire flew through air, hitting the passenger window seconds later at a dangerous speed, the guy calling shotgun knocking into the driver. I swung with them and saw the driver pull a sharp left turn, nearly careening into another taxi before hitting a Dumpster in the left alley and stopping the chase.
I clinged to the alley wall and slid down, crisscrossing between walls before landing on the hood of the sports car. These guys were a mess. There were three guys in total and with the crash they had taken, all were bloody and dazed with whiplash. I opened the back left door and pulled the guy out, his pistol dropping to the ground. He looked at me with annoyance and I tossed him against the wall before webbing him up around his arms and chest. The other two were unconscious and I checked their pulses and the bulk of their injuries before deciding their injuries were not severe. I eyed the duffel bag spilling over with cash and webbed it, the heavy bag flying at my chest. I caught it, money rolls of 100s falling to the ground. I picked the rolls up and sighed. I was holding well over $200,000 which was more than enough to pay off May's house mortgage and at least most of my college tuition. But then, I dropped the money back into the bag. There's no way she'd take this money. Aunt May was too good of a woman to take money from an unknown source and plus, the bank would track it and everyone would know I was Spider-Man. I sat the bag on the crunched-up hood of the car and flicked out my wrist, whipping out a web that connected with a catwalk in the alley and I swung off, back to tracking the ATM hacker.
I return to reality and Gwen gives me a small smile.
"You always trail off like that. I asked you if we can hang out after school. Eddie's hosting a party." she says as she lightly punches my chest.
Eddie raises an eyebrow and gives a smile.
"Where at?"
"My house. My grandma's out of town for the weekend. It's gonna be great. Finally get you drunk." he laughs.
"Me? At a party? Nah. I'm good." I reply.
Gwen looks at me through her glasses with a glare. She pokes her tongue against her cheek and puts her hands on her hips.
"Peter Parker," she begins.
"You need to get out and explore the world, hell, just Manhattan even. You're either cooped up at your house or in the classroom. You gotta spread your wings eventually."
If only she knew.
I shrug and give her a look that reads: I'll think about it. Which means 'no'.
"We're gonna be late. Come on." I say, taking her arm and leading her into the classroom just as the bell rings.
"Another 'A'? What a surprise." Eddie says sarcastically. Although one of my best friends, he's always acted hostile around me. Like I always get the feeling that he wants to severely beat me to a bloody pulp. I don't know. When our parents died together in a plane crash, he became extremely outgoing while I became an introvert. I enclosed myself in schoolwork and all kinds of sciences while he focused on football. We were the exact same person ten years ago but split into polar opposites when the crash occurred. I can't really blame him.
"A-, bro." I say, pointing to the line beside the 'A'.
I've always been smart. I got it from both Mom and Dad. They were high-functioning Einsteins with no real sense of empathy for me. I know that they loved me but I was always the distant mark in their lives. Their work came first and it died with them. I can hardly remember them now. Just that Dad tried to connect with me. Unfortunately, that meant catching the ball with your boy. First throw, I got a black eye. Cried for a few seconds and then forgot about it. Next day at school, there were rumors I was being beaten. Eugene 'Flash' Thompson began to pick on me. That was until Eddie popped up from private school, toughened up by the terrifying bullies of 4th grade.
"I said get off of him!" Eddie Brock said, shoving the bully off of my back and helping me up.
I got up, seeing the new kid, four inches taller than me and already having big arms and shoulders. I gave him a small smile and he returned it, facing Flash and grabbing his sweatshirt.
"You think it's good to pick on people? Why don't you pick on me?" Eddie asked him.
"Be-because you're not like him." Flash stammered, swallowing hard as Eddie prepared a fist for delivery to his jaw.
"Him?" Eddie said, pointing to me.
I was standing up beside the rock wall at the playground, gulping loudly as my bully gave me a stern look as Eddie laughed.
"Looks to me like he's a human being. Just like you. I don't see any difference between him, me, or you. We're all the same... what's your name?" Eddie said.
"F-Fl-Flash." he stammered said.
Ever since we were little, he had given himself the nickname 'Flash' instead of his other name. I suppose it was kind of hard to be the coolest kid in school with such a common name like Eugene.
"Flash? Your mom name you that?" Eddie laughed.
This kid was brave. No one had ever stood up to Flash in all the years I had known him. I gave a small smile as Eddie continued to humiliate the biggest bully in school without tossing a punch or even a small pinch. To this day, I have to thank Eddie for defending me that day.
"Are you sure about the party, bro? It's going to be great." Eddie said as we leave Chemistry and go to lunch.
"I got stuff to do, tonight. Honest." I say.
"Study. That's not really a lot of stuff." Eddie replies.
I shake my head and push my glasses closer to the bridge of my nose as we walk through the hallways and shove our way through the horde of teenagers clamoring for the disgusting food of Midtown High. He looks at me swipes my physics book from my hand. I sigh and reach for it as he holds it over his head. Being only 5'8 and facing against a guy twice my size and 6'4, I can't grasp the book. Well, I mean, of course I could. All it would take would be for me to use my inner strength to jump over him and an additional ten feet. If only.
"This," he begins, waving the book around.
"Is not everything, Pete. Science is cool and all but you have to live a little before you get a job and the adult world comes blasting in your face."
Gwen laughs and swipes the book from Eddie's hand and hands it back to me.
"We've tried all we can, Eddie. He's going to have to learn for himself." she says, grabbing Eddie's arm as they head to the cafeteria and I stand alone in the hallway.
In case you haven't figured it out yet... I'm in love with Gwen. I have been in love with her since we were 4 years old. 12 long years of being friendzoned and being her 'bestest friend in the entire world' (her words). She is literally the most perfect girl I've ever seen. She's blond with bright, blue, baby, puppydog eyes, has a brain bigger than 99% of the Manhattan population, and has the slyest, sexiest, and cutest smile in this galaxy and any other. She's the perfect combination of beautiful, smart, cool, laidback, and active. Never, in all my 16 years had I ever met someone who everyone seemed to love, despite her dedication as a nerd to science first. But, will I ever confess? Not unless she returns the favor first. I know, I know. How can I swing across New York, get shot at, and risk my life everyday but not face a girl? Well, I'm Spider-Man, yes. But first and foremost, I'm a teenager. Which means I have no clue how to handle life.