AN: So picking up where we left off, here's a new chapter for you guys. I hope you enjoy it. Sorry for any misspelled words or bad grammar.
Chapter 6: Leave the Rest Unspoken
I slammed my locker, "I'm telling you what I heard," Gwen's eyes were wide with shock when I told her what my mom slipped out. My eyes felt red and puffy from crying all night. When I got to school Gwen thought something happened to me on the way home, I told her nothing happened, but me and you both know I lied about that.
"That seems way to crazy to believe. She was drunk. Maybe she was just... Drunk?"
I adjusted my backpack and continued to walk forward, "Or maybe she accidentally told the truth."
"Did you talk to her this morning?" Gwen tried to keep up with me as I hurried down the hall.
"No. She left before I woke up. Which was surprising considering I hardly slept."
Gwen took my arm, "Hey!" I turned to look at her. Her face was saddened, "Look, I know this is hard for you. But you have to confront your mom about this."
"I don't even feel like looking at her right now."
"I know. You still have to talk to her about it, Jessica," I shook her hand off sighing, "Let's get to class."
I began to doodle a spider on my notebook. My hair covered in front of my face as I just looked down while Mr. Cranston wrote notes on the white board most of class. Flash didn't even say anything to me today. I felt something thin poke my shoulder. I looked to see Peter holding his pencil. He seemed worried.
"Hey. Everything okay?" He whispered.
I nodded slightly. I don't need him to be concerned about me.
"You sure? Your eyes, they're red. Like you've been crying. I was worried."
"Don't worry. I'll live," I gave him a small smile.
He nodded, "Yeah-Yeah I know. Your uh your strong like an ox. I remember. Not your first rodeo, right?"
I went back to facing forward nodding my head, "Yeah." I know Peter was trying to make me feel better, but it didn't stop me from crying, but I wanted to hold it in. My body was shaking lightly in my seat. I felt Peter still staring at me.
After school I still sat in my seat in the classroom. My teacher did ask if anything was wrong, I didn't say anything.
"Jessica?"
"..."
"Jessica do you need help?"
I stood up and left after a moment. I walked down the hallway to the front entrance and saw Peter sitting on a wall looking at his camera. He looked up and saw me.
"Jessica," he hoped off the wall. I stood still as he approached me, "Hey."
"Hi," my voice was low.
"You're obviously not yourself."
I tilted my head, "Yeah."
He rubbed the back of his neck, "Look uhh- I wanted to tell you that if you needed someone to talk to," he glanced up at me, "I'm- I'm here."
I looked at my feet as he continued, "I actually was going to invite you over for dinner tonight, but I um-I see you probably aren't in the mood to talk too much."
I glanced up at him when he handed me a piece of paper, "In case you change your mind, you know?"
738 Winter Garden Drive, Forest Hills, Queens
"Queens?" I asked looking over the address.
He nodded, "Yeah, Queens."
"Why do you want me over?"
He smiled, "Cause, you're my hero, remember?"
I nodded, "Thank you," I continued to walk passed him, shoving the piece of paper in my pocket. I had to go visit my mom at work.
I wanted to bash someone's face in, but of course, when I don't want to get in a fight or someone to be following me, it's there. When I want the excuse, it's never there. Dammit!
I got to St. Mary's at four fifteen. I walked through the doors and up to the nurse's desk.
"Can I help you?" She asked.
"Can you contact Dr. Miriam Drew. I'm her daughter. It's urgent," the nurse nodded and picked up the phone. In a matter of minutes my mom was at the desk with me, "What's wrong, Jessica?"
I stared at her, feeling anger, "Who am I?"
"What?" Her face got confused. She moved me over to a more quieter area. I struggled out of her grip, "Hey! Calm down. What's wrong?"
"Who am I?"
"You're Jessica Drew."
"Am I?"
She squinted at me, "Are you feeling alright?" She went to place her hand over my forehead. I swatted away her hand.
"How did I get my abilities?"
"Shh!" She tried to quite me down.
"How did I get them? How did I get them!"
"I told you, you were born that way."
I scowled at her, "I'm not eight anymore. That excuse won't fly. How did I get them? Is my real dad this way?"
She froze for a second, but shook her head, "You know your dad didn't have this. And he would be very upset with you if you just showed up here, to yell at me."
"If he were here I'd tell to stay out of it," I snapped. My mom didn't like that, "Excuse me?"
"I'd tell him to stay out of it because he's not my real father!"
My mom's mouth dropped. It took her a few moments to talk again, "Who told you that?"
"You did, last night, you were drunk," my voice was sharp. She combed back a strand of her hair. My eyes were stinging. She just told me everything I needed right there in that small moment, "So it is true."
My mother had shame written up and down. Her mouth opened up slightly to try and recover, "I-."
"You know, just leave the rest unspoken, Mom. You lied to me about dad. Now you're lying about who I really am," I started walking backwards away from her.
"Jessica-."
"Save the 'I was protecting you' bullshit. Doesn't change the fact that you are a liar!" I turned completely around and walked off.
"Jessica!"
I ignored her and started to run. I didn't know where I was going, I just kept moving.
I sat in the subway seat, same crowd as usual. I looked to my right and there was a drunk guy that was asleep. He had a pack of cigarettes in his hand that he was starting to loosen his grip on. I slowly inched my way over, taking the pack gently away. I got off the next stop not wanting to be caught by the man. I felt pretty crappy for stealing, but I need them.
To be honest, I've never smoke one of these before. So I'll have no idea what I'm doing. I leaned against a wall waiting for the next subway to get her. Putting my hands in my pocket I felt the piece of paper Peter gave me earlier today. Maybe I will stop by. I sure as hell don't want to go back and wallow all alone at home.
I pulled out a cigarette, but there was one problem. No light. I just looked like a dope holding on to a cigarette between my two fingers.
"I'll get that for you," a man next to me said with such a thick Bronx accent. A hand came from my side with a lighter and lite it. I inhaled, then coughed.
"Whoa, easy there. First time?"
I looked up and saw a man with blondish hair slicked back and brown eyes. He had this dreamy look to him. He was college age, maybe twenty-two. I got control of my breathing again and attempted to smoke.
"No, I'm fine."
He smiled at me, "What are you, like twelve? You shouldn't be smoking."
"I'm not twelve. I'm nine," I joked. He chuckled, then stuck out a hand, "I'm Eddie, Eddie Brock."
I went to shake his hand, "Hello there. Thanks for the lite by the way," I slightly held up the cigarette.
"No problem. See a girl in need, I help. It's what I like to do."
"What are you some kind of 'superhero'? Helping damsels in distress?"
He smiled at that, "I'm no hero, but I don't mind being a helping hand."
I nodded, "So just a regular Joe? Awesome," I took another long drag. I might be getting use to this.
"Never said I was regular. I like being special."
"Oh you're special, alright," I smirked. The next train got here heading off to Queens. I dropped the cigarette then stepped on it.
"You leaving so soon? I was just getting ready to ask you to marry me," he was funny, but a little strange.
"I got cold feet," I backed up.
"Never got your name."
"Never gave it," I shrugged.
"Well, it's New York. Maybe well run into each other sooner or later," I was on the train.
"Or later," I waved as the doors shut.
AN: Thanks for reading!