Lying Heart

Chapter Six

"Well, consider me impressed," says Mr. Carter, looking over the photographs Peter is considering for submission for his portfolio. "These angles are imaginative. Gravity-defying." He raises an eyebrow. "I'm not going to ask how you got any of them, because I'd hate to be responsible for you falling a thousand feet."

Peter smiles. "So you think they're okay to submit?"

"More than," says Mr. Carter. "You've really managed to turn the semester around, too. I'd be more than happy to write a recommendation letter for you, if you're applying to any academic programs as well."

"Great, thanks," says Peter. He's about to start collecting his photos when Mr. Carter lays a hand back on them on his desk.

"I'm curious about two of them, though. If I can ask?"

"Sure."

The first picture he pulls out is one of Gwen, one that he took before the whole Spiderman thing happened. She's sitting on a picnic table in the school courtyard in her high boots and a skirt, reading a book, her hair in her face. Held up against the other photos, Peter notices the stark contrast of it against the other pictures: everything else is dark, almost gritty, compared to the blonde girl in the blatant, cheery sunshine.

"You see what I mean," says Mr. Carter.

Peter nods, still staring at the picture.

"It's not that it's a bad photo. It's actually a nice moment you've managed to capture here, and it speaks a lot to who the girl is as a person. Or how the photographer feels about her," Mr. Carter says, raising an eyebrow. "But it's so different from your other pieces, I'm afraid it might distract from them. It really doesn't have any connection with the other photos, which all seem to have a unified concept."

"You're right." Peter doesn't know why he stuck that picture in there in the first place. Well, he knows why, but that doesn't stop him from being embarrassed about it.

"And this one," says Mr. Carter. He pulls out the picture Peter took of himself as Spiderman slinging through a back alley. Peter's eyes grow wide. In all honesty, he hadn't meant to submit it to Mr. Carter. He had only been goofing around when he took it, but it does sort of blend in with the rest of his portfolio, and was probably all too easy to shove in with the rest.

"Oh," Peter says, flustered. "I didn't mean to—I don't want to submit that."

"I would, if I were you," Mr. Carter disagrees. "It's an amazing picture. What I'm curious about, though—was this staged, or is it the real guy?"

Peter watches Mr. Carter's face, unsure whether or not he should be suspicious of this question. But the man's eyes seem genuinely lit with an almost boyish excitement. It's the first time Peter has ever seen an adult react to the idea of Spiderman with such enthusiasm, and for a moment he's afraid he's going to laugh, so he looks down at his shoes and makes himself concentrate.

"I don't know if it was," says Peter. "He just … flew into the alley, and I was lucky enough to be there."

Mr. Carter almost looks disappointed.

"But he sure looked like the real thing. I mean, shooting webs and all," Peter continues. "He was pretty cool." This seems braggy. "I guess," he adds, so he's not totally an egomaniac.

Mr. Carter looks hesitant for a moment. "Do you mind if I make a copy of this?" he asks, holding up the picture.

Peter can't think of a good reason to tell him no. "Go ahead," he says.

Mr. Carter pulls the photo out of the stack and walks it over to the copy machine by his desk. "Tell me what you think first," he says, hitting the buttons to copy it, "but a friend of mine said they're looking for interns at the Daily Bugle, and I'm sure they'd be interested in photos like this. Do you think you could ever get a picture like this again?"

Peter shrugs. "Probably," he says. This sounds too confident. "Maybe," he amends.

"I'll run it by them, then, if that's okay with you."

Peter feels uneasy. He wants the internship, sure—that could open a lot of doors for him. But at the same time, reliably being able to take pictures of Spiderman seems more than a little incriminating. How could he explain himself, when he always magically knew where Spiderman was going to be and where to stand to get the perfect shot?

But now he's waited too long to say anything, and Mr. Carter has taken his silence as confirmation. Peter reasons that it doesn't matter. The odds of them hiring him over one stupid photo are slim anyway.

He leaves Mr. Carter's office that day and runs smack into someone. His photos go flying down the hallway, and immediately he starts scrambling to pick them up.

"Aw, sorry, man. Here, let me help you."

Peter looks up in alarm. It's Richard. He scans the hallway for the picture of Gwen, but already knows with unspeakable dread that it must already be in the other boy's hands if he hasn't spotted it by now.

"Wow," says Richard. "This is a … great shot."

Peter clears his throat. "Yeah." He's not sure whether or not he should hold his hand out to take it back. Gwen is Richard's girlfriend now, after all, and for some absurd reason Peter feels like this gives him more of a right to the picture even though he took it himself.

Richard's eyes narrow. "When was this taken?"

"A few months ago."

"Huh. I didn't even know you and Gwen were that good of friends." He looks about as uncomfortable as Peter feels. "Does she, like—pose for you or something?"

"No," Peter says quickly, "no, no, of course not."

The relief is evident on Richard's face. Then he frowns. "Did she know you were taking this?"

Peter clears his throat again. "Um." He finishes picking up the last of the pictures and looks down at the floor. "No, not really." Richard doesn't say anything and Peter laughs uncomfortably. "It was a long time ago. I was just picking up some old pictures I'd used for a portfolio on student life," he lies.

Richard seems to believe this. "Oh. Gotcha."

"Yeah. Uh." He still hasn't given it back to Peter. "You can keep it if you want," he says.

"You won't need it?"

"Nah," says Peter, his voice sounding a little more pubescent than usual.

"Cool."

Richard pulls out his backpack and neatly places it in one of his folders. Peter observes with some dismay that Richard's backpack is as impeccable and organized as it can get. Something you would only expect of a boy who wears ironed shirts with jeans to school. Peter thinks of his own backpack, with papers spilling everywhere. Thinks of his own jeans, and can't even remember the last time he put them through the wash.

He finishes zipping up his backpack, the photo neatly zipped away. For some reason this feels like the most final he can get from distancing himself from Gwen. He has physically, for all intents and purposes, given her away to someone else.

"Thanks, man," says Richard. "See you around. Keep shooting."

"Shooting?" Peter asks, alarmed. "Shooting what?" Gwen would never tell Richard his secret, right?

Richard looks at him as if he's grown two heads. "Pictures," he elaborates.

"Oh." Peter laughs. "Of course." He shoves his folder back into his backpack. "See you around."

Thanks for the reviews and the birthday wishes :). My life just got significantly less crazy so I'm looking forward to some writing times (ie, daydreaming about Andrew Garfield times) and a night with just me and this frozen pizza. Because if I blow another ten bucks seeing Spiderman again, I will not have enough money to live.