Peter was taken aback. Was he really doing this? Sticking to a wall?

"Whoo! I am!" he cried, leaping off.

"Again, this is our newest breaking story. We have just recieved word that an unidentified flying object is going crazy around Manhattan. One witness claims, 'It looked a lot like that glider that OsCorp Industries has been advertising.' Please stay clear of the area where the alleged 'glider' was seen. we now return to--"

"Yeah, sure," said Uncle Ben. He sat beside Aunt May on the couch.

"Well, I don't know," Aunt May replied. "I've heard about this before."

"Where?" asked Uncle Ben sarcastically. He was a graying man, with glasses and an unresistable smile.

"Umm . . . on the Tattle channel." Aunt May was a nice woman with hair that used to be blond, turned white, and she was always worried about something.

Uncle Ben started guffawing. "Ha-ha, May! You can't believe anything they say on that channel!"

May looked worried. "All I'm saying is, I hope Peter isn't out too late."

Just then they heard the door open, and a voice calling, "Honey, I'm home!"

Aunt May was relieved. "Oh, Peter, dear, where have you been?"

Now it was Peter's turn to look worried. "Uh, err?"

"Yes?" asked Uncle Ben.

"You haven't been in any trouble, have you?" Aunt May asked hurriedly.

"No!" replied Peter. "I, uh, was--"

Uncle Ben flicked on the TV again.

Aunt May asked, "Did you get to Mrs. Smith's alright? You didn't get caught with the crowd in Manhattan with the flying thing, did you?"

Peter hurriedly said, "No, I would never-- huh? Flying thing--? Oh, yeah," he said, seeing a way out, "yeah, that thing was going crazy!" He hoped his mock acting could pull him out of this. After discovering his new powers, he had forgotten about Mrs. Smith's.

"But Mrs. Smith's isn't on the way to Manhattan," said Uncle Ben, anylyzing Peter's every word. "Is there something you need to tell us?"

"I, uh, I kinda forgot," Peter stammered. He knew it was unconvincing, but what else could he do?

"Forgot?" asked Uncle Ben. "How could you forget your errand?"

"Well, I was thirsty, so I stopped of for a Pepsi on the way there."

"And what does that have to do with the flying thing?" asked Aunt May.

Peter wanted to slap himself on the face. He had already forgotten his earlier excuse. "I, er, they, uh, had a TV, at the store-- Yeah, and I saw the glider story on the TV, so I wanted to go see it." He sighed to himself. He thought that would satisfy them.

"You put yourself in harm's way?" Aunt May almost screamed.

"Uh,-- No!" said Peter. "I didn't know it would be dangerous!"

"Peter, why don't you just go up to your room, until I can talk to you," said Uncle Ben.

Peter was shocked. "Are you serious? I'm fifteen years old!"

"I'm serious. Go."

Peter walked off to his room.

"I'm sure he had a hard week," said Aunt May. "What with the spider bite and all."

"Oh, I know he did," replied Uncle Ben. "I was bitten by one in fifth grade, and I was made fun of something awful. I can't even imagine what it'll be like in high school."

Was Peter the only one who payed attention in class? He sometimes wondered that. Here he was, paying careful attention to a lecture about adhesives that could be stretchy, when one phrase caught his attention. "It's almost like a spider's web." This delved Peter deeper into the lecture, because last night on his roof, he had learned that he couldn't spin his own web--and he had learned the hard way. "And if a spider could do it, why couldn't--"

"HHHHHAAAAUUUGHH!" Flash Thompson said into Peter's ear. "Oh, mommy, a mosquito bit me, HHHHAAAUUUGHHH!"

"Shut up, Flash." Peter was angry at being interupted during what he was listening to.

"HHHHAAAUUUGGGH!" said Flash again.

Peter was very irritated now. He had put up with this jerk when he didn't have super strength, and he wasn't about to take it now. "I said SHUT UP!" He grabbed Flash by the collar and shoved him into the wall. "Listen, jerkhole, I happened to be paying attention to this lecture, and I was liking it. But, now, since you've disturbed me, it's my turn to disturb you, you little--"

"Mr. Parker!" a stern voice called out. "I am very disappointed in you. Detention today after we finish this obviously delicate science lecture."

"But--!"

"And no buts. I don't need another Flash Thompson in my class." The teacher walked off.

Flash snickered.

"Listen, moron!" Peter said, turning back to Flash. "Today after I finish detention, meet me in the parking lot. We've got business to take care of."

Peter walked off, leaving Falsh slumped against a cheap Albert Einstien poster. Flash laughed.

He got up. How long had he been out? He had no idea. He picked up the equipment and he--crushed the control panel? Norman Osborn looked at himself.

"I think this deserves some deeper looking-into."

Peter actually had the best detention of his life. Since he hadn't listened earlier, he now had to listen to the full lecture again--in detail. He couldn't have been happier as he sat taking notes on the artificial "spider's web." But now detention was over. It was time for a fight.

Flash snickered when Peter walked over to the parking space he was at. "You actually showed up? Boy, I'm lookin' forward to this!" He made a fist with one hand, then smashed it into his other palm to clarify what he meant.

"Oh, shut up," said Peter.

"Make me," mocked Flash.

This was too much for Peter. He had been mocked by Flash since second grade, maybe before. It was time to fight back. He clenched his fists and ran towards Flash. He punched Flash in the teeth before Flash even knew what happened. Flash went down.