"Uncle Ben…" Peter spoke under his breath after Aunt May had left the small dining room. "I need to ask you a favour."
"Sure, Peter."
"It's costing me a lot to go back and forth to Doc Connors' lab. I need a bit more money…"
Peter winced as he mumbled the last few words, and the smile fell from Ben's face.
"Peter, you know I'd do anything I can, but we've already given you so much."
"It's okay Uncle Ben, forget I asked."
Peter turned away from his great-uncle, gathering the plates and bowls on the table together.
"Peter, if we had the money, we'd give it to you."
Bent over the table, he looked back up at Ben's elderly face, the wrinkles on his face just a little contorted.
"I know Uncle Ben. I'm grateful for all you've done. I'll find a way."
After fastening the chinstrap to his helmet, Peter spotted Gwen over in the bleachers, and raced over.
"Gwen! What… What are you doing here?"
Though he wasn't sure, he felt like she was checking out the way he looked in his tight-fitting wrestling uniform.
"I couldn't miss my boyfriend taking on Flash Thompson, could I?"
Peter grinned.
"It's only a practice match. Flash has a weakness against speedy wrestlers, so I'm sparring with him." Peter felt more and more energised, the nerves beating away against the inside of his stomach. Nothing had ever felt as good as just looking at Gwen did. "Shouldn't you be in debate club practice?"
She grinned, baring her full row of perfectly white teeth, her cheeks slightly reddening.
"I should be. But I'm sure Harry will be able to think of an excuse for me."
She reached out, taking Peter's hand in hers. "Debate club basically trains us to be good liars."
She spoke softly, almost whispering. She was clearly as nervous at this kind of flirtatious interaction as Peter was.
"Does it teach you to break the rules as well?"
Gwen held Peter's hand up to her soft lips and gently kissed it. She looked like an angel as she sparkled tenderly up at him, her blue eyes twinkling underneath her tidy blond fringe.
"No, I'm just a bad, bad girl."
Peter felt almost unbearably overcome with nervous excitement, as Gwen giggled in embarrassment.
"Parker!"
There was always something to spoil a nice moment.
"I'll be right back, I just need to beat up Flash."
Peter could feel a swagger in his body as he ran to the ring. He looked over his shoulder as Gwen blew a kiss towards him – he felt like he was leaving paradise behind.
"Sorry Coach Fieldman."
"You'd better be sorry. You're on my time now, Parker."
Fieldman's face was stiff, humourless. Peter threw a cheeky grin at the coach.
"I promise I'll be worth the wait."
Fieldman rolled his eyes so far that they may have rolled right out of his head, before turning away.
As Peter stepped up, Flash was stood at the far side of the ring, apparently enraged at having been kept waiting. His face was grim and focused, his stance broad and dextrous.
"You're a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"
He didn't respond. Peter realised it probably wasn't smart to poke the bear.
"And… fight!"
On Fieldman's instruction, Thompson charged towards him.
Sprinting down the platform, Peter had just seconds before the doors closed, leaving him behind. His bag was heavy, and his legs ached, but he kept going… making it through the doors just before they closed.
He collapsed in the corridor between carriages, laughing as exhaustion hit. A month ago, he could never have kept running that long. But not only was he developing strange climbing powers, his entire body was leaner and more muscular.
Peter sat where he was, one hand on the dirty floor. He reached into his bag, and took out a clipping he'd torn from the previous night's newspaper, a job he wanted to look into.
The New York Wrestling Extravaganza was running open trials for new wrestlers.