Author's Note: Hello, story followers and readers at Fanfiction! For those of you wondering, I recently rewrote and re-titled this story as Marvelous Web-head - previously called The Sensational Spider-Man - so if you haven't read the new first chapter I did, I'd suggest going to read that before diving into this chapter. Most of this chapter is the same as the previous first chapter I did, but with a few word tweaks and new scenes to fit the new story I have in mind. And for those of you who were looking forward to the previous story I had going, fear not! For I have made this story ten times better! So, without further adieu, I am hopeful you all continue to read and enjoy the story retelling the life of Peter Parker and his adventures as Spider-Man!
The next morning, the sun rays shone through the blinds of Peter's bedroom and hit his eyelids at seven a.m. sharp. Right then, his alarm clock blared for the first time since the end of summer as his countenance threatened to take him back to sleep. Having learned from experience, he reached for the alarm switch and turned it off without breaking it - he chuckled to himself remembering the last alarm clock he broke due to his super strength. Having crashed out following his chat with Aunt May the night before, he sat up, and yawned, fully aware of what day it was today.
Today's the first day of school and I couldn't be more pumped! Peter thought. Things are about to be different; my friends will have my back and we'll show the jocks who's boss! Just so long as Flash doesn't rain on my parade, I'd say today's forecast calls for sunshine with a sea of red and blue on the side.
Jumping out of bed, he made his way over to his closet and opened it to find his red and blue spider-themed spandex suit. He threw it on to leave under his unusual choice of long-sleeved clothing that was enough to make even Aunt May question why he dressed like that at all even in summertime - his only excuse with it being September and all was that temperatures were cooling. He grabbed his books and stuffed them in his book bag, unlocking his self-made electronic lock on his door, and made way for the bathroom down the hall.
Let's hope my sleeping didn't mess up my hair too much, he thought.
The bathroom mirror presented him with his usual buff Caucasian appearance, freed of glasses since the spider bite transformed his genetics. He smoothed his slicked up brown hair, making any fixes necessary, and stared into his reflection's brown eyes, happy to have a better build and vision this year compared to last year.
Yeah, I look good! he thought while pointing and clicking toward himself in the mirror.
Giving himself one last look, he strolled downstairs and traveled through the dining room to greet Aunt May cooking at the kitchen counter.
"'Morning, Aunt May! How's the nicest girl in Queens doing this fine morning?" Peter asked, making his presence known to Aunt May.
"Oh, I certainly slept well after you came home," said Aunt May. "And how's my nephew doing?"
"Never better!" he said, kissing her on her cheek to which she giggled.
"I suppose you'd better hurry to the bus stop. Wouldn't want to be late on your first day back now would you?"
"No ma'am. I mean it's only my junior year, which I might add will be better than last year!"
"You're certainly growing up. It seems like just yesterday you were off to your first day of first grade carrying your backpack and lunch to the bus stop."
"Those were the days," Peter looked off, reminiscing. "Speaking of, do you mind if I pack my lunch for a change this year?"
"Oh, I almost forgot! I decided to follow tradition and pack your lunch ahead of schedule," Aunt May stated as she strode off to the other side of the kitchen to retrieve the item in question.
"Aw, Aunt May!" Peter exclaimed, annoyed. "I'm sixteen not six. I can handle a few responsibilities."
By the time he finished his sentence, Aunt May had already gone and grabbed the sack lunch she had made, handing it to Peter with pride. "Oh, Peter. Just know that no matter how old you get, I'll always look out for you," she said, looking up at him with a hand on his shoulder. "Now hurry along, don't let me keep you!"
"Will do, ma'am!" he responded, grabbing his sack lunch. "Have a good rest of your day and I'll see you later!"
Heading for the door, Peter strode outside, glancing back at Aunt May in concern for her well-being. Though her concern was understandable, he sometimes worried that she was over worrying due to his extended absences. Still, he didn't want to tell anyone about his secret identity - especially her - lest they worry for his safety. At this point in his life, it was all he needed to avoid many of the difficulties any other human being would dread.
And so, after making sure no one was in sight, he hid well in some nearby bushes to navigate his backpack for his red mask with white and black eye lenses and the red and blue gloves equipped with his web shooters. Applying both pieces to his appearance, he removed his clothes and put them in his backpack, uncovering his spandex suit and emerging from the bushes now in disguise as the Amazing Spider-Man.
"One thing's for sure, despite what Aunt May thinks, I won't be taking the bus anymore. Nobody got time for that crap. Not while Spider-Man's around at least," Peter proclaimed to himself under his mask. He then turned to fire his web shooters toward the nearest residential building, zipping along the web's trajectory toward the roof of the structure and running across it to the end. In a series of action moves, flips, and web zips he made his way beyond the Queens suburb and into the more commercial-oriented district where a train was stationed for eventual departure. He sat down on the edge of the front car in anticipation for it to move.
"Guess I'll just hang out here until the train moves along," Spider-Man thought out loud as he pulled out his phone to check the time. "And what do ya know? For once it looks like I'll actually be getting to school at a decent time. Midtown Manhattan High, here I come!"
With a sudden nudge, the train rolled out from its current position to which Spidey was not even surprised. This was the fastest option since, although there was the bridge to swing across, it usually resulted in slower movement than the speed the elevated subway carried him.
As the train moved along, he chilled atop the moving car, scrolling through his phone for any sign of a social media post from his high school clique. Surely enough, he found on Facebook yet another post of an overlook shot of the city from his best friend, Harry Osborn, stating "It's the last night before my junior year so I thought I'd take one last shot of the city during my time of freedom. #lastnight #saveme".
Seeing this, Peter chuckled. He almost wished he could experience Harry's view from the top of Oscorp Tower on a regular basis, but, then again, he already got enough of a thrill jumping from buildings all the time.
Before he knew it, the train had taken Peter to the other side of the bridge where his stop was located and so he packed his phone and took off. From there, he swung off into Manhattan, calling out to the New York traffic below as he made his daily appearance to the amazement of pedestrians and kids looking out their car windows. With little time to focus on his surroundings, the Web-head set a course for Midtown Manhattan High, soaring over buildings through use of his weblines and acrobatics. Web swinging his way to school on the first day couldn't have been more thrilling. But could he reach the building in time for the bell to ring? He wondered.
He shot himself over one last building and in plain view was the grounds of Midtown Manhattan High in the heart of Midtown. From the many kids getting off the school bus to those convening in the middle courtyard, the school looked busier than ever. As much as he was tired of going there for the third year in a row, Peter could not wait to get in on the action.
Setting down in an alleyway behind a nearby dumpster, Peter threw his street clothes over his suit and smoothed his garments to make sure his appearance was in tip top shape. He then ran out of the alley, made his way across the street and onto the school grounds where the entrance door was in sight. Just a few more feet and he was in his home territory.
Just when Peter thought he was in the clear, his backpack strap got yanked by a hand as thick as his "spider abs". With a jolt, Peter looked up to find the tan, slicked up blonde head of Frederick "Flash" Thompson looking down upon him with a sly grin on his face.
"Well, if it isn't Puny Ass Parker back to claim his throne as 'top geek' at this school," the bully, Flash, taunted. "What's the matter? Are you nothing without your backpack?"
With a single tug, Flash pulled off Peter's book bag and claimed it for himself. Peter reached for it before Flash pulled it away, holding it high above his head for no good reason at all.
"If it isn't 'Flash' Thompson thinking he's all that just by playing keep away with my stuff," Peter retorted. "Seriously, I thought we called it even after I outsmarted you in a fight last year."
That was a day Flash hadn't forgotten about at all. It was the day that Peter tested his newfound powers out on the bully and found out he now had the capability to put him in the nurse's office with a black eye, bloody nose, and broken wrist. "Oh, I'm sorry. I seem to recall you wanting to 'get even' that day. Now it's my turn!" he proclaimed before turning to his "jock mates" standing all around him in matching orange and black Midtown jackets. "Hey, guys! Let's line up in formation to play 'monkey in the middle'!"
To Peter's frustration, Flash tossed Peter's book bag to the jock all the way across the circle. Peter followed his bag, but was unable to reach it before it got tossed to the next one in sight. After last year's incident, Peter resisted the temptation to utilize his enhanced speed to gain advantage over them. He couldn't risk exposing himself as he almost did back then.
"Come on, quarterback! Can't you cut a guy some slack?" Peter asked, trying to reason with him.
"Not until we make you late for class!" Flash retorted, holding his phone. "By the way, this is totally going on Snapchat."
Seeing through the flawed logic of Flash's plan, Peter wondered if there was a better way out of this. Fortunately for Peter, he didn't have to take another step to notice a like minded soul walking nearby. Sporting bright blonde locks with a black hairband to support them, she strolled in on the commotion. Her nerdy schoolgirl collared shirt, skirt, and clunky boots caused her to stand out as a woman amongst the men.
"Flash!" the girl by the name of Gwendolyn Stacy - Gwen for short - called out. "What did we say about kicking Peter's ass on the first day?"
"B-but, Gwen, that was summer school! Things are different this year!" Flash replied. "And if you don't step out of the way, your stuff's next!"
"Please! If you could pass the ball under pressure, would we have lost to Staten Island Tech last year?" she said with a whiff of sarcasm. "For all we know, you're too chicken to come grab my bag and start throwing it around yourself."
The surrounding jocks gave mixed reactions of "oohs" and laughter at the burn she just delivered, inciting Flash to slump in surrender to her womanly dominance. Right then and there, Flash handed the bag to his stocky black friend, Rand Robertson, who approached Gwen and Peter with the latter's book bag in hand.
"Dude, you want some aloe vera for that burn?" Rand asked in his signature chill voice before handing Peter back his bag. "Here you go, Einstein. It's all you."
"T-thanks, Rand," said Peter. "I appreciate you being the most helpful of this group."
"Don't mention it. Just following family rule here," Rand stated, referring to his father who worked for a big name newspaper tabloid printing company in Manhattan.
"Good to know," Gwen said. Just then, the first bell rang overhead, alerting them to class starting in five minutes. "That's the first bell. Better buck up if you wanna get to class on time, sweaty athlete!"
Her last statement was directed at Flash who slumped in shame over the smart girl's ability to outsmart him not only in intelligence, but in wits as well. Because of this recent comeback, Flash kicked the school steps in frustration while Peter and Gwen walked off into the school, giggling under their breaths. What a way to start off their first day.
Soon as they checked to see that the jocks went off in a different direction, Peter and Gwen turned to face each other. "Thanks for saving me back there, Gwen. I really owe you one," said Peter.
"You owe nothing, Peter. I'm just doing my job as 'smartest in our class' like I always do," she boasted.
"Hey, now, who said you were the smartest?" Peter bickered.
"I'm pretty sure you did after all those times I helped you with biology homework last year." She was right. Peter might have been the next Albert Einstein in terms of intellect and capacity to ace science on a regular basis, but, without Gwen, his abilities and confidence were hardly refined.
"Well, but… okay, you're right, I did. Just you wait, maybe one of these days, I'll be the one to help you."
"That'll be the day," she retorted.
"Yeah… but anyways," Peter continued. "I'm, like, really, really impressed at your ability to turn the tides against Flash like that. I mean, seriously, how do you do that?"
"When your dad's a certain police captain who's assertive to criminals, you learn a few things that other folks don't learn around here."
"Well, it's a good thing John knows what he's doing raising you the way he does!" Peter complimented.
"You know me too well," Gwen finished as they neared their shared first period chemistry classroom. The door was shut, but Peter took initiative of opening the door and holding it open for Gwen.
"After you," Peter signaled.
Gwen smiled and put her hair behind her ear, flattered by Peter's gesture. On the inside, students were already communing and talking amongst each other at their counters with sinks on them. Among them sat the handsome, reddish brown haired Harry Osborn, Peter's best friend since seventh grade, and the beautiful red-headed Mary Jane Watson, Peter's next door neighbor and childhood friend. The two were muttering under their breaths comparing schedules with each other when Harry noticed his friends approaching.
"Hey there, Pete! How'd another gorgeous summer in Manhattan treat you?" Harry asked, gesturing to his best friend.
Peter and Gwen took their seats at the counter next to him and Mary Jane.
"Oh, hey, Harry. Pretty boring summer I'll say," Peter said to mask the fact that he was now that Spider-Man guy swinging around everywhere.
"That's too bad. My dad was stuck in boardrooms all summer, which left me stuck in crappy boredom all by myself. I can't believe all this time we could've been bored together, but then again, what gives? This year's gonna be torture anyway," Harry dreaded.
"Don't be silly, Harry!" Mary Jane said, nudging him. "As long as we're all friends here, it'll be the ride of a lifetime!"
"Well, maybe you're right. It's not like we're gonna be here much longer. Still…" Harry replied.
"Don't worry, Harry," she said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here for you."
Hearing this, Harry smiled. Peter was almost certain there was a mutual connection between Harry and MJ to a point where he was certain Harry was about to ask her out.
Gotta admit, both girls in my life really know their stuff, Peter thought. Between Gwen and MJ he almost didn't know who he liked better, but then again, MJ seemed to have more of a thing for Harry anyway. Moreover, Gwen had his back like a guard dog did its police officer. Why else would he give up trying to pursue her? He had wanted this since the end of last year.
Right then, the bell rang yet again, signaling that all students should be in class, which, for a change, Peter was there early - Flash had always made him late in previous years because he was either dumpster diving for his bag or stuffed in a locker. Since he was more than lucky this year to still have Gwen on his side, there was almost nothing in the world that could bring him down. Whatever were to happen next, Peter was about to start his second to last school year at a brisk pace.
Oscorp Tower was among the tallest buildings in Manhattan. Up there, people could view for miles the expanse that Manhattan had to offer wealthy business owners and the common resident. While the view was nice, the place was also home to what many upon first glance would consider some of the most helpful science investments known to man. Many scientists took proper credit for their work. Others had it stolen right from under them.
Such was the case with the slender, bald, beak-nosed Adrian Toomes. As the man in an aging brown business suit marched his way up toward the CEO's office, his mind swirled with questions and accusations he knew he ought to lay flat before his horizons. Were he to let this go on any longer, he would likely lose his sanity. On the verge of breaking, Toomes approached the tall, dark double doors, shifting to the side to jab at the button on the gold intercom speaker to speak to whoever was inside.
"This is Adrian Toomes," he spat over the speaker. "I'm here to see Norman Osborn."
"You've come to the right place," the bodyguard over the comms rang back. "Please enter."
The doors swung open as if by magic, Toomes looking to either side in confusion over what was happening. He had never been to the CEO's office personally, but as he walked into the room, the desk by the window dominating his view, he noted the two bodyguards standing at either side as they shut the door behind him. No longer distracted by the interesting setup, Adrian stared down the broad built businessman sporting a dark business suit, striped tie, and V-shaped wavy hairline: Norman Osborn. The man was writing papers and signing contracts presumably for new partnerships inbound. However tempted he felt to manhandle him in that moment, he chose to keep himself under control for he sought to keep his job as an employee of Oscorp no matter what.
"I trust we are in for a pleasant visit today, are we Mr. Toomes?" Norman stated with a whiff of sarcasm.
Unfazed by his condescending attitude, Toomes slammed his palms on the desk attempting to break Osborn of his concentration. Norman didn't even flinch at the vibration it sent across his desk.
"Care to explain why you're suddenly promoting the prospect of your so-called 'tech flight' idea?!" Adrian spat.
Norman assumed a neutral position, setting down his pen and folding his hands together. "Mr. Toomes, Oscorp is on the verge of a technological breakthrough, one that I invented, and you seem to be here pointing fingers at me. Care to explain yourself?" he asked.
"The answer is simple, Osborn-"
"Mr. Osborn, if you may…"
Toomes couldn't have been more annoyed. "Right. The answer is simple, Mr. Osborn: tech flight was an idea I pitched to you several months ago, which you rejected. And now I hear all of the sudden it's your idea that you created?! Why don't you explain yourself?"
"Toomes, what you've laid before me is a serious accusation," said Osborn, examining his fingers. "Surely there's a misunderstanding here. You had the idea of tech flight, I merely just laid the plans for it. It's all a matter of action vs. inaction therefore I'm the one taking credit for it."
Already, Toomes' blood pressure was through the roof - something that wouldn't be good for him in the long run - but regardless, he fought to keep himself under control. "Any sort of intellectual property theft is still theft in my book! If anything, you're the one who should be asking for forgiveness instead of shoving me under the rug!"
Unmoved by his accusation, Norman Osborn resumed scolding Toomes for his unwillingness to let go and accept what was done. "Toomes, I've already done so much for this company that I simply do not have time for petty accusations from lesser employees like yourself. Let's face it, you've done nothing to advance this company for the greater good. Just look where inventing things for the CIA got you."
"Mr. Osborn, I-"
"No need for further discussion, Mr. Toomes. If you never accomplished much as a young man, then you certainly won't as an old one," Osborn insulted, causing Toomes to slink back in defeat. "Guards, do show Mr. Toomes the door. This'll be the last time he ever sets foot on my property."
Adrian all but panicked as the bodyguards approached him from either side, his dignity slipping with every step they took toward him. They pulled him away from the desk, Toomes turning around to face Osborn once more as they led him out of the office. "Very well then, Osborn! But if I can't work for you, just you wait and see what more I'll do to get back at you!"
Unfazed by this threat, Norman blew light onto his fingers, this being the last thing Adrian saw him do before walking out the doors. White hot rage boiling in his system, Toomes kept himself from lashing out as they took him down the hall toward the elevator. Shoving Adrian aside, the guards left him to take the elevator all the way down to ground level where he turned in his employee ID at the front desk and walked out the automatic doors that led outside. The old man could simply not believe where his quest to call out his former employer had taken him. There was an air of unrest as Toomes began to think of all the possibilities of how he might for real get back at Osborn for selling him out so swiftly and unfairly. One thing was for sure: he wasn't kidding when he said he would find a way to get back at him.
As he stomped away staring down at the sidewalk, Toomes hatched the bright idea to get in touch with his former friend and colleague whom he knew turned to the criminal lifestyle. Using his old flip phone, which was all he could reasonably operate, he opened the contacts and proceeded to type in "Montana". The name "Montana Schultz" appeared and he phoned him up, waiting for the ringing to end. He turned a corner into an alleyway where no one would see him when, to his surprise, Montana answered, his Southern accent ringing true over the speaker.
"Howdy, Toomes," he said. "It's been ages since I heard a word from yas. What's the deal with y'all today?"
"Hello, Montana," replied Toomes. "I was just let go from my Oscorp job for accusing the CEO of stealing my ideas for tech flight. You are very much a feared criminal amongst the underworld. Is it possible you could help me find a way to exact my revenge on him?"
"Well, I'll be! My boys and I have been looking to steal from Oscorp to meet similar ends. With your flight suit and our stolen weapons, we could become the most unstoppable gang this city's ever known."
Hearing this, Toomes smiled a sinister grin. "Consider me one of you."
Thanks to everyone for reading this new chapter! I am hopeful to continue soon whenever that may be!