"Peter's finally home."
I nearly spit out the Lucky Charms I had been shoveling into my mouth.
"What did you say?!" I let my spoon clang down into my cereal bowl. Aunt Anna glanced at me from over her shoulder then turned and continued to wash dishes at the kitchen sink.
"Peter is home. He was on assignment somewhere for the Daily Bugle, taking pictures or something of that sort." She spoke so nonchalant, not at all like she were speaking about someone whom we assumed had been dead for nearly two weeks. "May told me last night. Apparently he had told her about the assignment beforehand and well, after the chaos with the Rhino erupted she must have forgotten. May said that his phone got crushed-"
"He bailed on me!" I could feel the fury bubbling up inside of me. "While I was playing Cat and Mouse with an overgrown mutant Rhinocerous, Peter was tucking his tail and running the other way! That coward!"
Aunt Anna turned to face me, her face calm and sympathetic. She began to dry her hands with a towel as she took a step towards me. "Try to be understanding, Mary Jane. He was afraid and understandably so."
"Aunt Anna!" I squealed, standing at the kitchen table, fists balled on the tabletop. "He dropped me off and when things got too hairy, he ran away like a little girl! If it weren't for Spider-Man, I would be-"
"Stop it." Aunt Anna hushed me before I could say the dreaded D-word. Her calm facade broke and for a moment I worried she was going to cry again. "Please, Mary Jane, don't even say that word. You're in one piece and quite frankly, that's all that matters to me. Peter is a good boy. Maybe he isn't the bravest boy in the whole wide world but he's a good boy. Just let it go, sweetheart."
Like someone had pulled the stopper right out of me, I felt my fury dissipating. I sighed, defeated by the little old woman standing before me. "Alright, Aunt Anna. But you and Aunt May have to stop trying to set us up." I picked up my cereal bowl and dumped it into the sink. The porcelain chimed angrily against the metal spoon. "I date men. Not little girls."
The walk to my bus stop was a rough one. New York City in December is not pleasant; snow, wind, black slush all over the sidewalks. I huddled down deeper in my coat, reminding myself that my graduation was only five months away and then High School would be just another memory.
The next five months passed uneventfully. New York City saw its worst winter but thankfully, it was villain-free. I watched the news religiously in hopes that Spider-Man would reappear just like Peter had but... he never did. The crime rate spiked and even Spider-Man's greatest media adversary, J. Jameson, the editor for The Daily Bugle, issued a statement that perhaps Spider-Man did more good than bad for our city. It was hard but eventually I came to accept that Spider-Man was gone. Eventually, I stopped watching the news and eventually, the entire city lost hope just like me.
Peter was home and occasionally I would see him leaving his aunt's next door in the early morning hours or coming home in the middle of the night. His peculiar schedule made him easy to avoid. Aunt Anna tried to bring him up again only one more time, boasting that he had re-enrolled into Empire State University but I quickly cut her off and changed the subject.
As graduation approached, Gwen and I became even closer. We made plans for the future, mapping out our careers and goals. We were an unlikely duo, she the brainy amateur physicist and me... the amateur actress who could hardly even spell physicist. Despite our differences, we became inseparable. Where she was quiet and introvert, I was loud and extrovert. Where she was organized and collected, I was a tornado, wreaking havoc wherever I went. I liked to say that we balanced each other out, I was the ying to her yang, but the truth was that Gwen helped me be an adult. Without her, I probably never would have applied to Empire State University and I wouldn't be staring at the acceptance letter framed and hung over my aunt's fireplace.
On graduation day, Gwen and I sat together in our black robes, her blue eyes, big as saucer cups, perpetually filled with tears. As our principal spoke to the graduating class I whispered jokes about his toupee to keep her tears at bay. When my name was called to stand and receive my diploma, I felt nothing. When Gwen's name was called to stand and receive her diploma, I felt giant crocodile tears rolling down my cheeks. High school was over. After the graduation ceremony, Gwen and I were moving into an apartment just two blocks from Empire State University where we would share a small two bedroom, one bathroom hovel.
I beamed despite the tears. Despite the odds of a broken family, an abusive alcoholic father and a crazed Safari animal, I had made it: I was an adult.