Hey! So it's been...over a year.

Sorry.

I STILL GET REVIEWS ON THIS! And it's crazy! I can't believe it. You guys are awesome! I'm sorry I don't update more-really, I am-but it's just hard for me to sit down and write when I'm not feeling it, you know?

Anyway, I would love to know your thoughts on this chapter. Thank you!

-Homey

P.S. SPIDERMAN IN MAY! YESSSS!

"So you're saying—" Mary Jane slid the napkin around the table, the one her can of Tab balanced on, in antsy little circles "—that you think Spider-Man is a good guy?"

"Definitely."

"But everyone's saying—"

"All you have to do is read, MJ. In the past week alone, he's saved four people from a burning building, stopped three robberies and caught this guy who committed a murder two months ago. Two months ago."

"Then what's with all the write-ups on how he's an antagonist?"

"Menace."

"I like my word choice better."

Gwen put her hand over MJ's to stop the constant revolution of the soda. "Stop. You're making me dizzy."

"Can you at least explain how you've come to this conclusion?"

Gwen moved her carrot stick around on her plate, finally taking a reluctant bite. "Well, if you've noticed, all the unflattering articles are published by The Daily Bugle."

"Of course they are. It's the biggest newspaper ever."

"Right. But they're all written by the editor." "

Ah." Understanding dawned in Mary Jane's eyes. "So somebody's got a beef with Spider-Man. What did he do, catch the guy cheating on his wife? Buying a pack of cigarettes when he swore he quit smoking?"

Gwen ignored her teasing. "And my Dad doesn't like him because he's doing their job…better…than them."

Mary Jane held a hand to her chest, gasping in faux-surprise. "Why, Gwen. I never expected the words to come from your mouth. You're so freaking admiring of him it's ridiculous."

"No I'm not." Gwen shook her head.

"Please. Daddy can do no wrong. You never even accidentally break rules."

"Maybe I just know right from wrong."

"What are you saying?" Mary Jane swished her fiery hair over her shoulder, defensive.

"Nothing. I was talking about me, MJ. Not you."

"Really? Because it didn't sound like that." She stood up, grabbing her Tab, and backed away from the table. Gwen stared at her, at this beloved mess of a girl—her oversized shirt, her too-big jeans and skinny arms. She looked so hurt, but the feeling was misplaced. Gwen hadn't meant any harm.

"Mary Jane. I would never—"

"God, Gwen. Just get a grip." With that, she turned and flounced away, ignoring the calls of her many friends as she passed them eating their lunch and gossiping, making a beeline for the heady safety of the school doors.

The sun was shining down pretty nicely for April, but Gwen shivered in the courtyard. Sudden warmth fell upon her arms, and she twisted around to see Peter smiling down at her, draping his jacket around her bare shoulders. She grinned, despite herself. She just couldn't help it.

"Hey," he said, sliding into the seat across from hers. He folded his arms across his chest. "What's that about?" He asked, jerking his head toward where the doors were now swinging shut behind Mary Jane.

Gwen shrugged. "I was talking to her about Spider-Man and my Dad and it went…wrong. I guess."

He stared down at the table, a smile playing on his lips. "What about Spider-Man?"

Gwen jerked her head toward him, intrigued. "Why do you care?"

"I don't." His eyes met hers, warm and brown and impossibly chocolatey. She melted a little bit.

"Then why do you want to know?"

"I just thought it would make for good conversation."

"You geek." She threw her carrot stick at him, expecting it to make contact with his shoulder, but he reached up at the last minute and caught it expert between his forefinger and thumb. "Wow," She said after a minute. "Have you thought about being an umpire for the baseball team?"

He dropped the carrot. It rolled off the table and onto the grass below. "Nah. I'm not sporty at all."

"Really?" She took in his body—he was lean, but muscular. "I don't buy it."

"Nah. I just do…" He paused, biting down on his lower lip. Gwen was slightly transfixed by the motion.

"Do what?" She asked, at last, shaking herself out of her daydreaming.

"Gymnastics," He finished, shrugging.

"Oh. Backflips and things?"

"Yeah. But it doesn't take much talent. It's all physics."

"I guess."

"Probably even you could do a backflip." A glint came into his eyes. Gwen leaned away.

"What? No. Absolutely not."

He stood up now, invigorated, coming over to Gwen. He held his hand out wordlessly.

"No." She shook her head, consistently firm. "That's not happening."

"You know how science works. Anybody who knows that can do a backflip."

"No."

"Come on." He gestured to her legs, which were clothed in jeans, for once—never mind plaid ankle ones, but jeans nonetheless. "You're not even wearing a skirt. Although I like the skirts."

A blush overcame her. "Peter."

"Just trust me."

She pushed her lips together. Finally, she stood, relenting with a sigh. "Okay, Backflip."

He pulled her over to a spot beneath the shade of a tree while she busied herself zipping up his jacket. It was a little long but warm, comfortable. He decided when they'd reached the right spot and stopped, planting his feet on the ground. "So what do you think comes first?"

"What?" Gwen glanced at him.

"What first?"

"Well. First: you."

"I'm a scientific equation?"

"No. I want to see you do a backflip first."

"Oh." He glanced around, suddenly hesitant. "Not here."

"What? Why not. You expect me to do a backflip, but you don't have to?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm just weird about doing things in public."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, so am I."

He studied her a moment. "Just trust me. You'll be fine." With that, he braced his hand on the small of her back. "So what comes first?"

She considered protesting. But obviously he was uncomfortable, for whatever reason, and she'd already alienated enough people for today. "Moving, I guess," She decided.

"Right: rotation. You have to get up in the air and keep rotating. Then what?"

"Height."

"Right again You need to have enough height to turn and land or else you'll reach the ground before you've landed."

"Reach the ground?"

"You know—go splat. I was trying to be diplomatic."

Gwen wrinkled her nose. "Too late for that."

"You need momentum. You won't have any torque—you're just going through the air."

"Right."

"So apply momentum. Turn, and you'll land. Tuck your knees against your chest."

"Got it."

"Ready?"

Gwen thought over what Peter had said. She could picture it, quite well. And his hand was still on her back, ever-comforting, ever-present. "Promise you'll catch me?"

"Swear."

"Okay." Gwen let out a breath, standing with her feet slightly apart. She jumped. She felt Peter's hand guiding her back, back and over. The ground spun beneath her eyes, and then the sky, and suddenly— She was right in front of him. "Oh my God!" She exclaimed, hands shaking. "I did it."

"You did." He clapped, smiling widely. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips.

She'd stepped outside of her comfort zone and taken a chance, all because of Peter. And she loved him for it.