Split second after split second, Peter caught the books and camera as they tumbled out of his locker.

Normally he wouldn't have reacted so fast, but he hadn't even thought about it – the mess in his locker had tumbled out as he opened the locker door.

He shoved a handful of books back into the disorganised locker, poured a few into his backpack, and placed his camera – a decent quality one, better than the disposable one he'd bought for use in the lab – around his neck.

Closing the locker, Peter spotted his best friend on the far side of the crowded hall.

"Hey, Harry!"

Peter snapped his friend as he turned, the flashbulb momentarily blinding him, putting him on the defensive.

It'd been two days since Harry had had thin red lines dyed from side to side in his hair, but it hadn't stopped looking ridiculous to Peter.

"You had your finger over the lens."

Peter raised the front of the camera upwards, looking at where his hands were positioned - he still had a lot to learn about photography.

He grinned.

"I know. It's a technique – I wanted to hide your head, while you've got that ridiculous haircut. You'll thank me later."

Harry put an arm round Peter's shoulder, and started walking down towards the school's front door, grinning as broadly and happily as Peter.

"This style is very in right now. As you'd know if you ever looked at a fashion magazine."

Harry looked up at Peter's much messier hair. "Do you even comb that mess?"

The pair laughed, but Peter became too distracted to bother with a comeback.

"Gwen!"

He broke away from Harry's grip, and chased across the hall towards her.

She'd been walking with Liz Allan – both turned when they heard Peter. Realising it was him, Liz looked away, spotted Flash Thompson, and had walked away from Gwen by the time the boys reached her.

"How about a photo, Gwen?"

Gwen lifted her textbook to hide her face.

"Don't – I look awful!"

Gwen wasn't wearing contacts, but was wearing her half-circle of glass held in place only by the tiniest wire-frames.

Her hair was looking a little messy today, but even that looked sexy. Her broad hairband was the same vibrant shade of red as her sweatshirt, a colour that contrasted nicely against her light blond hair.

Peter often disagreed strongly with Gwen's self-consciousness, but generally went along with her– afraid to push back in case she realised how he felt.

But not today.

"You look amazing. You always do – I don't get how you don't see it."

"Peter, you're just –"

"I'm not anything. You're gorgeous and I don't get how you don't see it."

Peter couldn't quite believe he'd just said that. He'd thought it so many times, but timidly accepted that maybe she had a point he wasn't seeing.

In recent weeks, working with Doc Connors, traversing back and forth across New York, and now with the effects of the spider-bite making him feel more athletic, Peter was feeling bolder, more confident.

Confident enough to tell Gwen that he was right, and she was wrong.

There were other girls who put more effort into their looks than Gwen – a few who seemed to step out of a glossy magazine every morning.

Gwen's style – sometimes stylish in a traditional sense, other times a little geeky but with a beautiful warmth – was far more appealing than someone with a more traditionally model-like style. There were a few of those girls at Forest Hills High, but only one Gwen Stacy.

"Maybe a stronger prescription would help." Gwen's features moved inward and her lips pursed slightly, into a look of confusion.

"Sorry?" she laughed.

"You know, to see what's obvious to the rest of us."

Peter grinned cockily, a smile that challenged her to disagree – she laughed again.

"I didn't have time to do my hair this morning," she ran her free hand through her locks, "and I'm just wearing an old sweatshirt…"

Peter turned towards Harry, who had his eyebrows raised and arms folded, his face painted with an amused smile.

"She's getting cocky now. Boasting about how it doesn't take much effort to look that good."

Shyly, Gwen smiled a little, flattered and embarrassed by the compliment in equal amounts. She opened her mouth a little, searching for a protest she couldn't quite find, and probably didn't want to discover.

Her face changed in shade, moving away from a similar pale shade to her hair, becoming a little more of a match to her jacket and hairband.

Peter leant in, deciding to do something he'd wanted to do for months, placing a hand softly against her cheek.

Suddenly, the thought crossed his mind that she might not want to be kissed, so he stopped, little more than an inch from her face.

So many times before he'd held back, convinced her expression meant she wasn't interested in him, or dismissing an expression that he thought was an encouragement… but that he distrusted as too good to be true. Looking at her open expression, this time he knew she wanted to be kissed. He placed his lips against hers, and squeezed her tight.

After a moment of bliss, Peter pulled away.

Shyly, embarrassedly, they both smiled. With her free hand, Gwen took hold of Peter's, gently squeezing.

Harry was smirking at them.

"It's about time."