"IT’S just for a little while, May. Things between her and her dad are...tense right now. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." I try to keep my voice steady, even though May can probably see right through me. She's standing there, arms crossed, giving Felicia and me the once-over.

For a second, I think she's going to say no. But then her expression softens, and a small smile tugs at her lips. "Felicia's been a big help at the shelter while you were...well, you know. And she was worried sick about you when you were missing. Of course, she can stay. I'll get a few things ready for her to sleep." She pauses, eyeing me with a smirk. "And since you brought her here, Peter, she can use your room. You'll take the couch."

Felicia's face flushes instantly. "Oh, no, really, that's not necessary—"

"It's fine," May interrupts with a playful smile, clearly enjoying herself. "Peter doesn't mind, right?"

I sigh, knowing there's no winning this one. "I don't."

Felicia just nods, though her embarrassment is written all over her face. May heads upstairs to get the room ready, and the second she's out of sight, the tension between Felicia and me settles into the room like a heavy fog.

At least we made it here before May noticed anything was wrong. My leg's still killing me, but I guess I'm doing a good enough job of pretending that May hasn't asked any awkward questions.

Yet.

Felicia breaks the silence first, fiddling with her fingers. "You didn't have to do all this."

I lean back into the couch, trying to ease the throbbing in my leg. "Yeah, I did. Felicia, your dad shouldn't be putting his hands on you. I'm not just going to stand by and let that happen."

She keeps her gaze on her hands, the tension in her shoulders saying more than her words ever could. "Yeah, well, there's a lot of things he shouldn't have done. But I guess... I should say thanks." Slowly, her eyes lift to meet mine. "Thanks, Peter."

I smile, shrugging like it's no big deal, but inside I feel a little lighter. "What are friends for?"

Felicia leans back, letting out a breath she's probably been holding for a while. "I didn't really bring any clothes with me, though."

I scratch the back of my neck, suddenly aware of how much I hadn't thought this through. "Oh, right. Maybe Gwen can help with that. Once I tell her what's going on and everything."

Felicia glances at me, her expression unreadable for a second. "And she'll be okay with this?"

The question catches me off guard. "Why wouldn't she be?" I ask, genuinely confused.

Felicia gives me a look I can't quite place, then shrugs. "Just asking." But there's something in her tone, something unspoken, and I can't tell if it's worry or something else.

Before I can respond, May's footsteps echo down the stairs. "Alright, the room's all set," she calls out, and Felicia stands, heading up to what is now her room for the night.

As she walks past me, I can't shake what happened with Kraven. He's hunting me, I can't just be moving around the city carelessly. Not with so many people I care about around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, first it's like... multiply the monomial by each term in the polynomial individually, right?" Flash asks, furrowing his brow like he's trying to wrestle the math into submission. "Then I just multiply the coefficients?"

I grin, and Gwen gives me one of those encouraging looks that always makes me feel like I'm on the right track. "Exactly! But there's one more step after that. Remember what it is?"

Flash taps his pen on the notebook, clearly trying to dig through the mental fog. "Uh... add the exponents of the like variables?"

"Yes!" I say, maybe a little too excited. "You nailed it."

He gives a small, satisfied smile and flips his notebook toward me. "Like that?"

Gwen nudges him, smirking. "See, listening actually helps. Now, what do you say to the second-best tutor around?"

"Second?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

Flash's face goes red, and he clicks his tongue, clearly too proud to show real gratitude. "I still think this crap is hard. But I guess you're not a total screw-up at everything, Parker." Without waiting for a response, he snaps his notebook shut and stalks out of the library.

I watch him go and shrug. "I think that was his way of saying 'thank you.'"

Gwen laughs. "Give him time. He's not always like that. You should see his impressions—he does a surprisingly good Gandhi."

The idea of Flash Thompson doing a peace-loving Gandhi impression almost makes me choke on my water. "Sure, I'll believe that when I see it."

We pack up as the bell rings, and I walk with Gwen toward first period, my mind half on the tutoring session, half on something else. I can feel a knot in my stomach starting to form. I've been dreading this conversation all morning, Felicia really has a way of getting into someone's head.

"Hey, uh, can I ask you for a favor?" I say, trying to sound casual but knowing full well I probably sound nervous as hell.

"Sure," she replies, glancing at me with a curious look. "Why do you sound so weird?"

"Well, it's about Felicia..." I start.

"Felicia?" Gwen repeats, eyebrows knitting together. "What about her?"

I hesitate for half a second, but there's no turning back now. "Something happened at her place last night with her and her dad, and—"

"Wait," Gwen interrupts, her frown deepening. "You were at her house last night?"

Okay. Definitely not how I wanted to drop that bomb. "Yes? But, only because it was something seriously otherwise I wouldn't have gone. It wasn't—"

"Peter, you didn't answer me for hours last night. And now you're telling me you were with her?"

I wince. "I left my phone at home, and it was kind of an emergency situation. It wasn't what you think."

Gwen crosses her arms, her voice lowering as we stop just outside Ms. Winterhalter's classroom. "Does this 'emergency' have anything to do with the limp you're trying to hide from me?"

She's sharp. Too sharp. "Uh... yeah. There was this stupid little accident, and Felicia was helping me patch up my leg, but that's all. Really."

She stares at me, and I can see the disappointment in her eyes, which stings way more than anger. "You didn't think you could come to me for that? I could've helped too, Peter."

I reach out, gently grabbing her arm. "No, Gwen, it wasn't about that. I promise. If things had been different, you are the only person I would've gone to."

Her expression softens, and she gives me a small, sad smile. "I trust you, Peter. I do. I just... I wish you trusted me enough to tell me what's really going on. I don't want to sound like a jealous girlfriend, but..." She looks away, biting her lip. "I guess I am a little jealous. I want to be the one you turn to when you need help."

I feel my heart sink at how genuine she is. "Gwen, you do help me. More than you know."

She blushes a little at that, her smile growing, but before I can say more, I remember the real reason I started this conversation. "There's, uh, one other thing."

Gwen raises an eyebrow, her expression wary. "Okay...?"

Before I can even get a word out, Felicia walks by, completely oblivious—or maybe not. "Hey, Peter, thanks again for letting me crash at your place. Your bed's way more comfortable than it looks." She winks at me as she passes, and I swear there's a smirk on her face that could rival a cat's.

Gwen doesn't say anything. She just gives me this small, tight-lipped frown before turning and walking into class.

What just happened?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Throughout class, I keep sneaking glances at Gwen, hoping to catch her eye, but she's pretending I don't exist. I've never seen her like this before, and it's messing with my head. Is she upset because I didn't tell her? Or is it just because it's Felicia?

I can't take the silent treatment anymore, so I decide to write her a note. We've been doing this forever, since grade school, and somehow, it feels comforting to keep that going.

Hey, I'm really sorry. Please talk to me?

-Peter.

I make sure Ms. Winterhalter's eyes are on the board before I flick the note onto Gwen's desk. She glances over, then opens it, her expression softening a little. A moment later, she writes something and tosses the note back.

I'm not mad, Peter. I just feel uncomfortable with a girl sleeping over at your house.

-Gwen.

That's... understandable. I scribble back quickly:

I know, Gwen. But she and her dad got into a fight. It's bad, like, really bad. If it wasn't serious, I would've never let it happen.

-Peter.

Her reply comes back just as fast:

Okay. That's a good reason. You're off the hit list. For now.

-Gwen.

I can't help but smile as I read it, and when I glance up, she's smiling back at me. Crisis averted—for now, at least.

But before I can relax, I hear it: screams.

They echo from the hallway, sharp and panicked, slicing through the low murmur of classroom chatter. Everyone freezes, including me. I instinctively tense up, feeling that familiar adrenaline surge. Something's wrong.

Really wrong.

Ms. Winterhalter looks toward the door, her hand trembling as she motions for us to stay seated. I'm already making a mental list of exit strategies, ready for whatever's about to come through those doors.

I glance at Gwen one more time. She looks as confused as I feel.

The door slams open, and a man storms in wearing a gas mask, his rifle pointed at all of us. Panic ripples through the class—some kids scream, while Ms. Winterhalter steps into the line of fire.

"W-Who are you?! What do you want?!" she demands, her voice shaking.

I freeze. The man's outfit—Kraven's men wore the same thing. Is this him? Does he know who I am?

The man's muffled voice echoes through the gas mask as he scans the room. "School's closed for the day. You're all coming with me."

Gwen's terrified eyes lock onto mine, her grip tightening on my arm. I give her the most reassuring smile I can muster, but inside, my mind's racing.

"Get up! Don't make me say it again!" the man shouts, firing a shot into the ceiling. The deafening crack sends everyone scrambling to their feet, screaming.

Gwen's hands tremble against my arm. "Peter..." she whispers, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

I hold her tighter as we're herded out of the classroom. From the corner of my eye, I catch Felicia's subtle hand motion—she's mimicking my web-shooters. She's signaling me to act, but I can't. Not yet. I grab my backpack as we leave, ready to change the moment I find an opening.

We're marched into the school's auditorium, where dozens of familiar faces sit frozen in terror. Flash hovers protectively over Liz and Charlie in a corner, looking more like their bodyguard than their friend.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I spot Mr. Baldwin cradling a sobbing girl, and Mr. Harrington with his group of students. Kraven's men are everywhere, all armed with rifles now, not bows and arrows.

We're forced to sit. Gwen buries her face in my arm, her body trembling. "I can't do this again, Peter," she chokes out, her voice cracking with fear. "Why does this keep happening to us?"

My stomach twists with guilt. She doesn't know it, but all of this—Kraven's men, the terror in the room—is because of me. Because of Spider-Man.

But they're not watching me too closely, so maybe Kraven doesn't know who I am... But then why target this school?

The auditorium doors creak open, and Kraven strides in, flanked by two of his men. He makes his way down the steps and onto the stage, eyes gleaming with predatory delight.

"Hello, everyone," Kraven says, his voice calm, almost pleasant. "I'm sure many of you have heard of me. My intention here today should be clear. As of this moment, you are all my bait."

Gasps and fearful murmurs ripple through the students. Kraven's voice rises over them, commanding attention. "The prey I want to catch is Spider-Man. I've heard he's saved the people of this school more than once, so I believe my best chance of finding him is through you. If Spider-Man is here, come down now, or I'll start executing students, one by one."

Screams and cries break out around us, and I clench my fists so hard I feel my nails digging into my palms. Gwen clings to me, shaking with fear.

"Don't worry, we'll be okay," I whisper to her, trying to sound braver than I feel. I need a plan. I need a way to get Gwen and everyone else out of here, but I can't do anything with her holding onto me like this.

Kraven's voice booms again. "Where are you, Spider-Man?! Should I start killing them now?"

Just as I'm about to make my move, a voice calls out from across the room.

"Spider-Man won't play your games!" It's Flash, standing tall and defiant. Every eye in the room turns to him. "He's a hero. And no matter what the media or anyone else says, the people at this school know what's up. You're just another freak looking to get famous off his back."

No. Flash, you idiot.

Kraven's lips curl into a predatory smile. "Perfect. A volunteer." He motions for his men to grab Flash, and they move swiftly. One of the guards from behind us heads toward the stage, where Kraven pulls out a knife, pressing the blade to Flash's throat.

Liz and Charlie scream, and I feel Gwen's grip tighten around my arm. "Peter, they're gonna—"

"No," I whisper firmly, "they won't."

As Kraven holds the knife to Flash's throat, my heart pounds harder with every second. Gwen's trembling grip on my arm feels tighter than ever, like she's afraid to let go. My mind races. I need to get out of here and change, but she's not letting me move.

"Peter, what are we going to do?" Gwen whispers, her voice cracking. There's raw fear in her eyes as she glances at Kraven and his men. "We can't just sit here and let him kill Flash."

"I know," I whisper back, keeping my voice calm, even though every nerve in my body is screaming. "But I'm gonna try to do something. I just need to step out for a second."

Her fingers dig deeper into my arm. "Step out? Where are you going? You can't just leave!" Her voice wobbles, teetering on panic.

"I'm not leaving, Gwen. I just need to try and call the police," I lie, feeling the weight of what I'm saying sink into me. "I just need to make it into the hallway, but I need to do it alone. If we both go, we'll draw attention."

She stares at me, wide-eyed, her breathing shaky. "No... Peter, please don't. What if something happens to you? What if they see you?"

I lean in close, forcing a smile. "I'll be fine. I'm just going a few feet away. I need to make the call. The police need to get here, fast. I swear I'll be back before you know it."

Gwen's fingers hover, loosening slightly, but I can see her hesitation. She's scared, maybe more scared for me than for herself. And part of me hates that I'm the reason for it.

"Peter, I don't want you to..." Her voice trails off, trembling, and I know she's struggling with letting me go.

"I know, Gwen." I lower my voice, gently pulling her hands off my arm. "But someone's gotta do something. I'll be right back. Just stay low, okay?"

She bites her lip, blinking back the fear, and finally nods. "Okay... but please, be careful."

"I will," I say, giving her hand one last squeeze before slipping away.

I move low, weaving through the rows of chairs as Kraven's men keep their eyes on the crowd. Each step is slower than I want it to be because of the damn limp that's still lingering from that arrow wound.

My side and shoulder burn, but I push through the pain, gritting my teeth as I make my way to the back of the auditorium.

Finally, I slip into the hallway, the cool air hitting my face as I try to ignore the dull ache pulsing through my body. I duck into a janitor's closet, locking the door behind me, and quickly pull off my shirt.

The ugly bruising from the arrow shot still blooms across my side, spreading from where the shaft had punched through. The wound's mostly healed now, but every movement feels like someone's driving the arrow back in.

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to suit up despite the pain. No time to baby myself.

Within seconds, I'm Spider-Man again.

I crawl into the ceiling vents, staying low as I navigate my way back toward the auditorium. My body feels sluggish, my limp more noticeable now that I'm trying to move quietly.

My shoulder and side protest with every motion, but I push through the pain.

People are depending on me.

Gwen's depending on me.

My phone vibrates in my suit, and I pull it out, quickly finding Captain Stacy's number from the police department's website. I hit dial, keeping my voice low as I crawl along the rafters, overlooking the chaos below.

"Captain Stacy," his voice crackles over the line.

"Captain, it's Peter," I whisper, my eyes scanning the auditorium. "Kraven's got students hostage at Midtown."

"We know. SWAT's already on the way," he replies, calm but serious. "Is Gwen—safe?"

I glance down, spotting Gwen, still clinging to herself in the crowd. "Yeah, she's safe. I'm keeping an eye on her. But Kraven's threatening to start killing people if I don't show. I've got a plan, but I'll need time."

"You have a plan?" Captain Stacy says, his voice growing sharper with urgency. "You going to fill me in?"

"Just get your men ready to breach. I'll create a distraction to give the students an opening to escape. Once they're out, I'll need your help to deal with Kraven's men. I'll handle the big guy himself."

There's a brief silence before Captain Stacy speaks again, the tension in his voice clear. "Understood. But Peter—make sure Gwen gets out of there."

"I will," I reply, cutting the line.

I drop down from the rafters, clinging to the shadows just behind the stage curtains. The weight of my body shifts painfully onto my bad leg, but I shake it off. No time to think about that.

I web the fire alarm, yanking it down hard. The deafening blare and flashing red lights send the room into chaos. Students scream, and Kraven's men frantically try to maintain control. Perfect.

"Stay seated!" one of Kraven's men shouts, his rifle raised, but it's too late. Panic takes over as the students leap from their seats, rushing for the exits.

I swing down from the ceiling, landing behind one of the guards. Before he can react, I web his rifle to the floor and knock him out with a swift punch to the gut. The sharp pain in my side flares up as I twist, but I can't stop now.

"Everyone out! Now!" I shout, swinging over the heads of the students. I fling the emergency doors open, waving them through. Students flood out into the hallways, their footsteps pounding like a stampede.

Gunfire erupts at the front as the police burst into the building, engaging Kraven's men in a firefight. I leap up to the rafters again, moving as fast as my battered body will allow. Every step sends fresh pain through my side, but I don't stop. I can't stop.

On the stage, Kraven's eyes find mine, a grin spreading across his face as he tosses Flash to the ground. He draws his hunting knives, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Spider-Man," Kraven growls, his voice dripping with excitement. "Finally. The real hunt begins."

I land in front of him, fists clenched, ignoring the burning pain radiating from my wounds. "Hope you brought your A-game, Kraven. Because this ends now."

He charges at me, knives flashing in the stage lights, and the fight begins. Every punch and dodge sends jolts of pain through my injured leg and side, but I push through it. This has to end—no matter how much it hurts.

Kraven lunges at me with speed and precision, but I manage to dodge, barely. I twist mid-air, shooting a web at his chest, but he slashes through it with a swipe of his knife. The guy's reflexes are insane.

I land hard, the impact sending a sharp pain through my already injured leg. My vision blurs for a moment, the pain from the arrow wound pulsing through my side and shoulder.

Kraven smirks, like he can sense my weakness. "You're slower, Spider-Man. Weaker. How's your wound treating you?" He moves forward, knives at the ready, and I have to focus, using the last bit of space between us to web his arm and yank him back.

"You're not winning this, Kraven," I say, trying to keep my voice steady as I leap back and knock him off-balance, sending him tumbling into the backstage area.

Away from the gunfire. Away from the students.

I follow him into the shadows, landing with a grunt as my leg protests with every step. Kraven's back on his feet almost immediately, eyes gleaming with amusement as he cracks his neck.

He stalks forward, knives spinning in his hands. "A good hunter always knows how to cripple his prey before the kill," he says with a grin, his accent thick. "You're no different."

Before I can react, he feints left, then sweeps low, aiming a kick directly at my injured leg. I can't move fast enough to avoid it. His foot slams into my thigh, sending a wave of agony up through my body.

I stumble, gasping, trying to catch myself, but he's already on me, landing blow after blow. His martial arts training is brutal and precise—each strike aimed at my weak spots.

I'm on the defensive now, blocking as much as I can, but every hit sends shocks of pain through me. I throw a punch, but Kraven easily dodges and lands a sharp elbow to my ribs. I drop to one knee, my vision swimming.

"Who hired you?!" I yell, desperate for anything that might help me turn the tide. "Who's behind this?"

Kraven laughs, circling me like a predator. "It's not about who hired me. It's about the thrill of the hunt. The joy of breaking someone like you." His voice is calm, measured. "But you already know that, don't you, Spider-Man? The thrill of living on the edge, of constantly dancing with death? You can't tell me that you don't feel it."

He's messing with me—playing mind games—but I can't let him get in my head. I have to focus.

I roll to the side, using my web to pull down a lighting rig from above. It crashes down, sending a shower of sparks between us.

Kraven leaps back, startled for a moment, and I take the opportunity to fire a web at his feet, yanking him toward me and landing a punch squarely on his jaw. He stumbles backward.

I know I can't out-punch him. He's too agile, too trained.

I glance at the ropes hanging from the stage rigging and the set pieces around us. There's my chance.

Kraven charges again, but this time I leap into the air, swinging around one of the hanging ropes. I kick him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling back against the stage wall.

He snarls, pushing himself up, but I'm already moving, webbing one of the heavy sandbags used to counterbalance the curtains. I swing it down at him, knocking him off his feet and crashing into the ground.

He growls in frustration, getting back up, but I'm not letting him recover this time. I use my webbing to grab a loose curtain and yank it down, wrapping him up in the thick fabric.

He struggles, slashing at the ropes, but I'm faster now, using the distraction to land a series of punches—this time aimed at his unprotected side.

"I'm not just prey for you to hunt, Kraven," I say, gritting my teeth as I web his arms to his sides, tightening the makeshift trap around him. "This isn't your jungle."

With one last hard punch to his jaw, I send him crashing into the ground, knocking him out cold.

I stand there, panting, every muscle in my body screaming in pain. My side throbs where the arrow wound still lingers, and my leg feels like it's about to give out, but I did it. I beat him.

Just as I catch my breath, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn to see Captain Stacy rushing in, gun drawn, his eyes scanning the scene. He freezes for a moment when he sees me standing over Kraven's unconscious body.

For a second, we lock eyes. I can see the worry on his face, the relief. His daughter is safe. Everyone is safe.

"Spider-Man..." he says, lowering his gun as he looks at Kraven. "You did it."

I nod, trying to mask the pain I'm in. "Yeah...yep." I say out of breath, I fall down to my butt. "Hey, so, you think you can do me a favor?"

Captain Stacy looks at me curiously. "What?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Peter!" Gwen's voice cuts through the crowd, and before I know it, she's rushing up to me. "Where were you?! I couldn't find you anywhere." Her eyes scan my face, widening as she notices the bruises. "What... what happened to your face?"

I blink, trying to think of an explanation that doesn't involve the fact that I've just been in a fistfight with Kraven the Hunter. "Well, that's a funny story..." I start, but Gwen cuts me off, her attention already shifting.

"Wait... Spider-Man was here. He actually showed up before the police. Again." She frowns, her eyes narrowing. "And you... left. Right before. Like you always do." She stares at me, her gaze hard and searching, and my heart skips a beat.

Before I can answer, a voice echoes from above us. "Yes, greetings citizens! I have saved you once again!" It's a high-pitched voice, and we all look up to see none other than "Spider-Man" standing on the roof of the school. Except, it's not me. It's Captain Stacy in my suit, waving like he's on top of the world.

Wait. Do I sound like that?

Gwen looks at me, puzzled for a moment, then back at the rooftop where Captain Stacy strikes a pose, his hands on his hips. "It's Spider-Man!" Flash shouts from nearby. "Yeah! Go, Spidey! He did it again!"

My biggest fan/hater.

"I am happy to help, my fellow humans!" Captain Stacy bellows, and I wince internally at his impression of me. Really? Is that what people think I sound like?

He strikes another exaggerated pose, then runs off, disappearing over the roof as the crowd erupts in applause and cheers. I've never gotten a send-off like that.

Is it weird that I'm jealous?

Gwen turns back to me, her eyes softening as she steps closer. For a second, I wonder if she's onto me—if she doesn't buy Captain Stacy's less-than-stellar performance.

But instead, she surprises me by kissing me, pulling back and staring into my eyes. "No powers, and you did something so brave," she whispers, smiling. "I was right when I said Spider-Man has nothing on my Peter."

Her Peter? I'm Gwen's Peter?

I smile, feeling like an absolute idiot. "Yeah, well, this Peter got his butt kicked before he could even call the cops. They found me, and an officer saved me before things got worse." I gesture to the bruise on my face, hoping my story holds up.

Gwen hugs me tightly, and for a moment, all the tension melts away. "You're still a hero in my book, Peter Parker."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Felicia watching us. She's leaning against a tree, hands in her pockets, giving me a casual thumbs up. But then, with a sly smirk, she flips me off. I can't help but smile back.

The police start hauling Kraven out, his face cold and unreadable as they load him into the van. He doesn't say a word, but I know he was close—too close—to figuring out who I am.

He might not have been the strongest enemy I've faced, but he was definitely one of the smartest. This could have gone a lot worse.

"Peter! Gwen!" Aunt May's voice calls out, and I turn to see her running towards us, her face pale with worry. "Oh my God, not again?! The school... again? What is it with this place?" She pulls both of us into a crushing hug, which is not great for my still-tender wounds. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm—I'm fine, May!" I strain under her grip, my side and shoulder aching. "Seriously, I'm okay!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby," May huffs, releasing me before glancing over at Felicia, who looks a little awkward standing nearby. May waves her over, and Felicia hesitates a bit before joining us. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Felicia nods shyly. "Yes, ma'am. I'm fine. Thanks."

I can tell she's not used to people fussing over her like this, but she gives a small smile. Gwen and Felicia exchange a look—something unspoken passing between them.

I know Gwen's still thinking about what I told her earlier. I reach for her hand, and she smiles, giving it a squeeze.

"Felicia's staying with us for a while," I explain. "She... she needs some clothes, and I don't think it's a good idea for her to go back home for now."

Gwen's expression softens. "I can help with that." She glances at Felicia, offering her a warm smile. "I'm glad you're safe. Both of you." She gives my hand one last squeeze before she heads off to find her dad. I can only imagine what Captain Stacy's going through trying to wriggle out of that sweaty suit.

As Gwen walks away, I spot Flash in the distance, his father yelling at him while an officer tries to intervene. I turn to May. "I'll be right back," I say, and head over to where Flash is standing watching as his father yells at some other officers, while Flash looks more deflated than I've ever seen him.

"What do you want, Parker?" he grumbles, not even looking at me.

I hesitate, then shrug. "I just wanted to say... what you did in there. It was brave. And really cool."

Flash's usual smirk flickers back to life. "Yeah, well, you should try it sometime instead of pissing your pants, Parker." He waves me off, but as I turn to leave, I hear him mutter, "Thanks."

I glance back, offering a small smile before heading back to Aunt May and Felicia. Maybe, just maybe, there's hope for Flash Thompson after all.