"SO you were bitten by some random spider? It was just luck?" Felicia asks, disbelief lacing her tone as I finish telling her my story.

I groan softly, shifting on the couch, every muscle in my body still aching from the fight with Rhino. "Yeah, something like that. It could've been anyone." My voice is hoarse, exhaustion creeping into every word.

Felicia leans back into her sofa, absorbing everything I've just laid out. "And I guess we also got lucky that the boy who got bit just so happened to have a hero complex."

I wince at that, the memory of my first nights with these powers flickering in my mind, a dark shadow cast by guilt. "It's not as simple as that," I mutter. "I'm not really proud of what my first instincts were with these powers." My throat tightens as I remember the way I had used my abilities for selfish gain, how I'd let that criminal escape... how Uncle Ben...

"But what matters is that I learned," I continue, forcing the words out despite the weight they carry. "Having powers like these, it comes with a responsibility."

Felicia rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "To get your ass kicked?"

I shake my head, even though it hurts. "To do the right thing."

"Sounds boring." She yawns, reclining further into the couch. "Seems to me like you could do a lot of things with power like that. I mean while you were sleeping they played what happened earlier on the tv, I saw you fighting that thing on the news. I can't believe a little guy like you took down something like that."

The memory of Rhino nearly killing me flashes behind my eyes, a wave of nausea rolling through me as I recall just how close it all came to ending. "Yeah, well... just because you can do something doesn't mean you should."

She arches a brow, clearly unimpressed with the moral stance. "And what about Osborn? He doesn't know about your powers?"

"No. Definitely not," I say quickly, the thought of Harry finding out turning my stomach. "Nobody does, and for good reason. If anyone knew... it'd be trouble." My voice drops, becoming more serious. "I can't... I won't let anything bad happen to the people I care about." I lock eyes with her, hoping she understands that this isn't just some game, hoping she can see the gravity of it all.

"Okay, okay, I get it. Responsibility, good guy stuff, heroing, yadda yadda," she says, waving me off as if the whole thing bores her.

I lean forward, wincing at the pain in my ribs, but I need to make sure she knows how important this is. "You have to promise me, Felicia. You won't say anything. Not to Harry. Not to anyone. This has to stay between us."

She raises her hand lazily, smirking. "Scout's honor."

I narrow my eyes, not entirely trusting her casual dismissal, but I'm too tired to argue. "I guess that'll do... for now."

She stands up, stretching as she heads toward the stairs. "You can crash here tonight," she says over her shoulder. "I've got some of my dad's old clothes you can change into. Not sure if they'll fit, though."

"Felicia," I say, stopping her just before she disappears up the stairs. She turns, looking down at me with that same cool, detached expression. "Thank you," I say, my voice softer now, the weight of everything pressing down on me—my pain, my exhaustion, my secrets.

She pauses for a moment, her mask of indifference slipping just a little. She nods, giving me a lazy thumbs-up before disappearing up the stairs, leaving me alone in the dimly lit living room.

I sink deeper into the couch, my body screaming for rest, but my mind still racing. I don't know how long I can keep this up, balancing the hero and the mask, the lies and the truths. Felicia's right—I could do so much with these powers, but I know now how thin the line is between saving people and losing yourself.

With a deep, aching breath, I close my eyes, the pain still thrumming in my body like a dull, persistent ache. Tomorrow will be another battle, another lie to protect the people I care about. But for tonight, I let the darkness take me, hoping it brings a brief, much-needed relief.

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

I felt like I was moving in slow motion, completely detached from my surroundings as I sat in class. Every movement sent a dull wave of pain through my body, making it hard to even lift my arms.

I could feel the bruises beneath my clothes, the tightness in my muscles, and the sharp sting of cuts still healing. I kept my head down, hoping no one would notice how messed up I really was. The weekend wasn't enough time for me to get over these injuries, and thankfully Aunt May was still training out of state, so I didn't have to worry about explaining anything to her, although she still checks in almost every other hour.

The classroom buzzed with the usual chatter, but I felt invisible—something I usually found comforting, but today, it just highlighted how isolated I was. No one was paying attention to me, so I figured I didn't have to worry about anyone figuring out my secret. I glanced over at Harry, who was hunched over his notebook, scribbling furiously without looking up once. His silence hit harder than any punch Rhino had thrown at me.

The bell rang, and I barely registered Mr. Octavius mumbling something about the homework. He always seemed like this job was so beneath him, gave almost no life or energy into his work here, I'd heard that this isn't his only job, which doesn't really surprise me. He'd always seemed like the overachieving type.

My eyes caught Gwen's as she gathered her things to leave. After everything that happened, I couldn't let things just hang in the air. I needed to explain myself—to fix something about what happened Friday. "Hey, Gwen," I forced a smile, trying to act casual despite the agony in my body.

She looked at me, her expression shifting into something I couldn't quite read. Concern, maybe? "Peter, is...everything alright?" Her eyes scanned me, clearly noticing the way I was slouched in pain, trying to hide how banged up I really was.

"I'm fine," I lied, trying to sound convincing enough to avoid more questions. "I just... I never got a chance to explain what happened."

Gwen's gaze softened, but she made a subtle glance toward Harry, who was already halfway out the door. "That's okay, Peter. I'm really not the one who needs to hear anything," she said. "I think he would like one though."

My chest tightened. "It wasn't like that. Felicia and I—she was just cornering me about something, and why she dragged me into the bathroom, I don't know, but she—"

"She," came a voice from behind me, interrupting my fumbling explanation. Felicia. She casually draped an arm over my shoulder, her voice smooth and confident. "Just needed to ask him about a job at his aunt's restaurant. I heard she works there from Osborn, and my dad and I... well, things haven't been great lately with bills, so I wanted to talk in private."

I blinked, momentarily stunned by how effortlessly she spun that lie. She was far better at this than I was. "Uh... yeah, exactly."

Gwen's face softened with sympathy. "Oh... I'm really sorry to hear that. Well, I know his aunt is a sweet lady. I'm sure she wouldn't mind helping. But Peter," she paused, giving me a small smile, "you never had to explain anything to me."

"Actually, I did," I said, my tone growing more serious. "I didn't want you thinking I was the kind of person who'd do something like that." I hoped she understood how much it mattered to me that she saw me for who I really was.

Gwen smiled gently. "Don't worry, Peter. I never did."

For the first time in what felt like ages, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. "In that case, maybe we could—"

Before I could finish my sentence, Felicia tugged on my arm, cutting me off. "Okay, we really gotta go discuss the terms of my employment. Nice chatting with you, blondie," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Wait, Gwen—sorry!" I called over my shoulder as Felicia dragged me away, leaving me with yet another unresolved conversation hanging in the air.

Felicia pushes me hard against the locker, her eyes darting around like she's weighing her options. "Okay, look. We need to talk," she says in a low voice, but the urgency is clear. I glance to my left, noticing the curious looks from nearby students. Their whispers feel like they're closing in, making me hyper-aware of just how exposed we are right now.

"Really?" I ask, irritation creeping into my tone despite the fatigue weighing on me. "About what?"

She pauses for a moment, as if unsure how to word what's on her mind. "So, I was thinking, what if you and I, you know, teamed up. I mean, with your powers and my..." She trails off, searching for the right words. "My... look, we'll figure that part out later. But I need your help. And you're a hero, right? You help people."

I lean in, lowering my voice. "Felicia, keep it down," I hiss, scanning the hallway to make sure no one's paying us too much attention. The last thing I need is someone overhearing that part of the conversation. "And what do you even mean? Team up for what? What kind of help do you need from me?"

She hesitates again, and for a split second, I see something vulnerable flash in her eyes. Her usual cockiness is gone. "Look, I keep your secrets, you keep mine. Deal?"

The late bell rings, but I don't even flinch. Whatever she's about to say, I have a feeling it's important to be worth the detention that's definitely coming my way.

Felicia looks away, her voice quieter now. "When I told your friend back there about my dad struggling with bills... that wasn't a lie. He does what he can, but he's an ex-con. No one around here wants to give him a real job. So I do what I can, you know?" She finally meets my eyes again, and I can see the shame, the frustration. "Sometimes I borrow things—stuff that rich people won't even miss. They've got enough money to replace it, right? But... that doesn't always cut it."

"Wait, hang on," I interrupt, my stomach twisting. "You're saying you steal stuff?"

Felicia rolls her eyes like it's no big deal. "Yeah, sure, call it what you want."

"Call it what it is, Felicia. You steal." Then a thought hits me, and it's like ice water flooding my veins. "You didn't... you didn't date Harry because of you wanted to steal from him, did you?"

She glances away for a second, and that's all the confirmation I need. "Look, it's not like they ever miss anything."

"Felicia, that's messed up! He liked you! You can't just—" My voice catches in my throat. "You can't just use people like that. That's not right. How could you do that to him?"

She lets out a sharp laugh, one that's more bitter than amused. "He liked me? Or did he like how I looked? Let's not pretend there was any romance involved, Parker. It was like a business deal. He got a pretty girl to show off, and I got to pay rent. Fair trade, don't you think?"

"No, I don't," I say, my voice rising in frustration. "Because it wasn't a business deal to him. He had no idea what you were really after. That's not fair, Felicia. And it's definitely not right."

She shrugs, completely unbothered by my outburst. "Well, I broke up with him, didn't I?"

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"That doesn't make it okay!" I'm shaking my head, struggling to process what she's telling me. Harry's my friend. And now this girl who knows my secret—this girl I thought I could trust—has been using him? The sick feeling in my stomach is growing, and I'm starting to regret trusting her at all.

Felicia lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temple like she's already tired of this conversation. "Why don't you save the lecture for later, Parker? Right now, I need your help."

"I'm not helping you rob people," I say, my voice firm. "And whatever you stole from Harry, you need to give it back."

"I wasn't going to ask you to steal anything." Her confidence wavers for a moment, her voice softer than before. "And everything I took is already gone. Sold. I just... need your help with some guys."

I pause, eyeing her skeptically. "What guys?"

Felicia leans in closer, her face more serious than I've ever seen it. "I messed up, okay? I hung out with the wrong crowd—did some things I shouldn't have. Now these guys want to collect. And they know where I live. They're dangerous, Peter. I need you to scare them off."

My mind races. This could be a trap. She could be lying to me, manipulating me the same way she did with Harry. But what if she's telling the truth? What if she's in real danger? I've obviously tangled with bad guys before, but this is different. This would be personal, and my body is already barely holding together after what happened with Rhino. Could I even handle a fight right now?

"Why don't you just call the police?" I ask, knowing full well what her answer will be.

She lets out a harsh laugh. "Really? You think the cops are going to help? They'll just make things worse. They'll get me or my dad killed. No thanks."

I lean back against the locker, rubbing my sore shoulder. "Okay... let's say I help. What exactly do you expect me to do?"

"I don't need you to kill anyone, Parker. Just rough them up a bit, scare them. Make sure they don't come around anymore. After that, we're even." She says it like she's certain I'll agree, like I owe her for the times she's patched me up or kept my secret.

I've fought criminals before, but only when they were already doing something wrong. This... this is just so different. It feels wrong. She expects me to just go and beat up people I don't even know? But the thought of leaving Felicia to deal with this on her own gnaws at me. I don't want to be responsible for something bad happening to her. I take a deep breath, my body aching with every second of indecision.

"Alright," I say finally. "I'll help you. But we do it my way. And after this is over, you stop stealing. No more 'borrowing' things, Felicia."

She flashes me a victorious smile. "I knew you were my guy, Parker. After school, we'll head to my place, and I'll tell you where to find those jerks."

I glance at the clock, realizing I'm already ten minutes late to Algebra. Between the Rhino, Scorpion, and now this, I'm falling behind in everything, including my actual life. "Great," I mutter. "That's if I don't get detention for the rest of the year."

"Just get through the day, and we'll talk later." She backs up, giving me a wink. "See you later, Parker."

As she walks away, disappearing down the hallway, I can't help but feel the weight of everything closing in. What have I gotten myself involved with?

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

The last bell of the day rings for my history class, and the room erupts as students scramble out of their seats, eager to leave. I move slower, knowing I can't rush through another class without facing reality. "Mr. Parker," I hear from behind me. Turning, I see Mr. Baldwin standing by his desk, his eyes locked on me.

"Yes, Mr. Baldwin?" I respond, already feeling the weight of whatever's coming. I start packing my books, slower than usual.

"Let's talk for a minute," he says, his tone leaving no room for excuses.

I swallow hard. "Y-Yes, sir," I mutter, walking up to the front of the class. As I stand before him, I can't help but hope, just for a second, that maybe—just maybe—he's about to praise me for something I've done right.

"I can't help but notice you've been having trouble with my class lately," Mr. Baldwin says, cutting right to the point.

So much for that hope.

"I'm sorry, sir," I start, the words feeling heavy. "I've just had so much goin—"

He raises a hand, stopping me mid-sentence. "Yes, I've heard that before. A lot going on lately. But if I'm being honest, Peter. I'm surprised to hear it from you."

The disappointment in his voice hits harder than I expected. He's right. I used to be the kid who always turned things in on time, always had the answers. But lately, Spider-Man has been taking up every ounce of energy I have, and everything else—school, friends, family—has taken a back seat. I feel like I'm falling behind in all parts of my life, and no one can ever know why.

Mr. Baldwin sighs, softening his tone a bit. "Look, I'm not trying to get on your case. I'm actually here to offer a solution. The end of the semester is next week, and as it stands, you're not passing. So, how about we get you a tutor?"

I blink. A tutor? "A... tutor?"

He glances behind me. "Ms. Stacy, could you come here for a moment?"

I turn to see Gwen sitting with her friends, their eyes suddenly on us. The embarrassment is immediate. I try to keep it together as Gwen walks over, all smiles.

"Sure, Mr. Baldwin. Hey, Peter," she says, smiling at me warmly.

I return the smile, forgetting for a second that normal people usually say something back. "Hey," I finally manage to get out.

"Ms. Stacy," Mr. Baldwin begins, looking between the two of us. "I believe you'd make a great tutor for Mr. Parker here."

I start to object, heat rising in my face. "Wait, I don't think Gwen really wants to waste her time—"

"Sure thing, Mr. Baldwin," Gwen cuts in, still smiling, completely unbothered.

Mr. Baldwin claps his hands, like it's all settled. "Perfect. Peter, I want you to stay focused. You're being given an opportunity here, and I'd really hate to see you waste it."

I nod, my mouth dry. "Yes, sir," I manage, glancing at Gwen, who's still smiling at me like this is no big deal.

As I start to head toward the door, Gwen falls into step beside me. "You didn't have to do that, Gwen. I'm sorry for dragging you into my mess."

She laughs softly. "Peter, you're literally tutoring me already in algebra. This is the least I could do. Besides, it'll give us a chance to catch up." She flashes me another smile as we walk down the hallway. "So, are you free right now? We could start with Algebra for an hour and then I can help you with history after."

It sounds perfect. Spending two hours alone with Gwen Stacy, laughing, talking, studying—everything I want. But then reality crashes in. Tonight, I've got a whole other world waiting for me, and the weight of it feels heavier than ever.

"I'd love to, Gwen. Honestly, I would," I say, my voice more somber than I intended. "But I can't tonight."

Her smile doesn't waver. "Don't worry, Pete. How about tomorrow then?"

I nod quickly. "Yeah, tomorrow. I wouldn't miss it," I say, hoping I don't sound as awkward as I feel. "Maybe after we could—"

"Puny Parker!" Flash Thompson's voice booms from behind me before I can finish. I don't even have time to react before his arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling me in like we're best buddies. "Osborn still hate your guts after you stole his girl?"

I grit my teeth, glaring up at Flash. "Not really your business, Flash. Don't you have, like, footballs to be throwing around or something?"

Flash snorts. "What would you know about that, Parker?" He turns his attention to Gwen. "We're heading to the lake later. You down?"

Gwen, as polite as ever, smiles. "Sure, sounds fun. I guess I'll see you around, Pete. Don't cancel on me tomorrow, okay?" she teases before turning to walk away with Flash.

Of course, Flash has to get in one last jab, slapping me hard on the back of the head as he walks off, flipping me off just as Gwen turns away. She doesn't see it. Of course, she doesn't.

For a split second, I imagine how easy it would be to put Flash in his place. One well-timed move, and Spider-Man could send him flying across the hallway. Spider-Man could teach him a lesson. But Peter Parker? Peter Parker takes the hit, keeps his head down, and pretends like it doesn't bother him.

And maybe, right now, that's the real superpower.

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

I knock on Felicia's door, feeling strangely out of place. For once, I'm not covered in bruises or blood, which is a weird change of pace. The door creaks open, and an older man's suspicious face peeks through the gap. He sizes me up for a second before throwing the door wide, clearly unimpressed.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" His voice is rough, almost bored, as if he's had this conversation a thousand times before.

I clear my throat, trying to stand up straight despite feeling like a kid caught sneaking in past curfew. "Uh...hello, sir. My name's Peter Parker. I'm here to see Felicia."

His eyes narrow. "She doesn't wanna see you." Then he slams the door right in my face, leaving me staring at the wood, stunned.

Great start, Parker.

I can hear muffled voices on the other side of the door. They're arguing now, the low rumble of his voice mixing with Felicia's sharper tone. I start to wonder if I should've taken Gwen up on that tutoring session instead. The door flies open again, but this time, Felicia's standing there, her face a mix of irritation and apology.

"Sorry about that. He can be...a lot."

I offer her a sheepish smile. "Don't worry about it."

She rolls her eyes and motions for me to come in. The inside of the house feels all too familiar—probably because I've been here half-dead more times than I'd care to admit. I step in, slipping off my shoes out of habit.

Her dad's still on the couch, nursing a beer and glaring at me like I'm some kind of unwelcome intruder. The last time I was here, I was bleeding all over that couch.

I remember spending hours on the weekend helping her clean it all up, even though my body was a complete wreck.

"H-hello again, sir," I say, forcing a polite smile and trying not to look as nervous as I feel.

Her dad grunts.

"We're going upstairs," she replies over her shoulder, her voice laced with defiance.

"The hell you are," he shoots back, his words heavy with suspicion.

Felicia stops mid-step, turning just enough to glare at him. "Keep it up, and I'll lock the door behind us."

Her dad grumbles into his beer, clearly not interested in pushing the issue further. I offer him a quick, awkward smile, which is met with a blank stare, and then follow Felicia up the stairs. His eyes stay glued to me the entire way up.

"Your dad seems...nice," I say, trying to break the tension as we reach the top of the stairs.

Felicia snorts. "He's all bark."

She leads me into her room, and I stop for a second, taking it all in. The walls are painted black, with posters of some rock band I vaguely recognize plastered haphazardly across the space. Two black kittens sit lazily on her bed, their eyes following me with curiosity. It's darker than I expected, but somehow, it suits her. It's simple, minimal—just like her.

"You, uh...not really into decorating, huh?" I ask, glancing around.

She arches an eyebrow at me. "What are you talking about? I did decorate."

I nod slowly, not entirely sure how to respond to that as she fills two bowls with cat food. Her kittens immediately perk up, hopping down from the bed to eat.

I sit down cautiously on her bed, which is surprisingly soft. "Alright, Felicia. So, what's the plan here?"

She sits down next to me, her eyes glinting mischievously. "I thought we were going to do it your way, remember?"

I sigh. "Yeah, by that, I meant we're not just going to rough some guys up like it's the Wild West. There's got to be a better way to deal with these people."

She smirks, leaning back on her elbows. "If you've got a plan, Parker, I'm all ears."

I rub the back of my neck, feeling the weight of what's coming. "Well, for starters, I need to know what I'm dealing with. You said you did some things you shouldn't have. What was it? Please tell me you didn't...kill anyone."

Felicia laughs, though there's no real humor in it. "Not yet."

My stomach drops a little. "Felicia..."

"Relax, Parker. I haven't killed anyone," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "But as for what I did, that's a little more complicated. And I'd rather not get into the details."

"If you want my help, you're going to have to trust me," I insist, leaning forward slightly.

She shoots me a pointed look. "Trust you? Like how you trusted me with your little secret?"

"That's...different," I stammer, trying to figure out if it really is. "Look, I just need to know what I'm getting into before I start helping you with these guys."

Felicia sighs, rolling her eyes. "Fine. They're dealers, Parker. Except what they deal isn't your run-of-the-mill stuff you'd find on the street. It's this weird green pill they call the Goblin. It's like...cocaine on steroids. It's insane."

I blink, trying to wrap my head around it. "Wait...you didn't take that stuff, did you?"

"No," she says quickly. "But I helped them sell it. The money was too good to pass up. But then things went south. I got jumped by these two jerks, and they stole my entire supply. And the guys I was working for? They don't exactly take kindly to that. Especially since lots of us have been getting jacked lately."

I watch as her face darkens, her eyes clouded with something I can't quite place. Fear, maybe? Regret?

"They know where I live, Parker," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "They know my dad. If I try to run, I won't make it far. These guys? They're the real deal."

I sit back, processing what she's telling me. This isn't just some schoolyard spat. These people are dangerous, and Felicia is in way over her head.

"Alright," I say finally, determination settling in. "Then it's time to shut them down."

She furrows her brow. "What do you mean?"

"You're not going back to these guys. I'll find out where they are, and once I do, I'll take 'em down and we'll call the cops. Let them take care of the rest. Those guys will be behind bars, and they'll never know you had anything to do with it. They'll think it was all Spider-Man's fault.

She stares at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine for something—maybe sincerity, maybe stupidity.

"You're gonna fight all those guys alone," she says quietly.

I nod. "I'm Spider-Man. This is what I do."

Felicia smirks, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Alright then, Spider. They usually hang around the docks by 49th and 12th. It's where I go to meet them when I need to resupply."

"So, they just hang out there? Like... a secret lair or something?" I ask, trying to envision what kind of place we're heading into. She rolls her eyes at my attempt to lighten the mood.

"It's more like a hangout for street kids. Kids who are worse off than I am, looking for a place to make money or make friends with the wrong kinds of assholes," she explains, her voice dripping with an edge of regret. I can see it in her eyes—how she must've once felt the pull of that life, the allure of belonging to something, even if it's dangerous. "And it's not like they just leave the goods out for anyone to find. If you go in there guns blazing—"

"Oh, I actually don't use guns," I interject, almost reflexively.

Felicia pauses, her brow furrowing. I swallow hard, realizing I might have stepped on a landmine with that little comment. She shakes her head, her voice serious. "If you go in there trying to start a fight, I'm sure there'll be a shootout. There are some good people in there—kids who don't have anywhere else to go. If you're actually going to do this, I'm coming with you. We need to get them out."

I nod, the weight of what she's saying settling in. "Yeah, okay. So, we get the drugs, beat down the bad guys, and save your friends. Sound good?"

Felicia's expression shifts, her tone dropping. "Those guys don't think they need saving. They're like me in a way, just trying to survive. For some of them, it's like a home. They might not want to leave."

I consider her words, realizing the complexity of the situation. "Then you take care of those kids, get them out, and I'll handle the ones who want to shoot. Deal?" I extend my hand, a gesture of partnership. "It'll be a nice change of pace having a sidekick."

Felicia grips my hand firmly, a hint of a smile breaking through her serious demeanor. "You're kind of a dork."

I chuckle, feeling a little lighter. "I like to think it's part of my charm. So, tonight we'll make our move."

Felicia nods, her expression sharpening with determination. "Just remember, Peter. It's not just about the fight. We have to be smart about this."

"Don't worry, I got it." I say, shifting to try and ignore my bodying screaming in pain at me. "So, in the meantime...got any board games we can play?"

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

Night came quickly, wrapping the world outside in a velvety darkness as I sat in Felicia's room, the glow of the lamp casting warm light around us. We were perched on opposite sides of her bed, a deck of cards between us. I was attempting to teach her how to play Speed, but the focus was slipping away.

"It's really not that hard, you just—"

"I'm done with this," Felicia cut in, a hint of impatience in her voice. "It's almost time to go. Shouldn't you be... you know? Changing into your other half?"

I glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Time was indeed ticking away. "Yeah, but what about your dad? Won't he care that we're sneaking out together in the middle of the night?" I asked, my concern for her safety evident. I could only imagine Aunt May's reaction if she knew I was out this late, especially with a girl like Felicia.

"He probably already left for work," she replied, her voice casual as she hopped off the bed and strode toward her closet.

"Oh? He didn't say anything to you?" I asked, watching her rifling through the hangers, looking for something.

"Well, it would be strange if he did," she said, her tone firm, as if she were drawing a line she didn't want to cross.

I nodded, sensing that this conversation was over. "Right, well, I'll just go, uh..." I fumbled for my backpack, which had my suit stuffed inside. "Where's your—"

"Down the hall to the right," she answered quickly, her focus still on her closet.

I stood up and took a moment to appreciate the atmosphere of her room—the walls adorned with rock band posters, the black curtains drawn tight against the night, and the soft purring of her kittens somewhere in the corner. Despite the impending danger, there was a strange comfort in this moment, a fleeting sense of normalcy amid the chaos that most likely awaited us.

"Okay, I'll be back in a sec," I said, trying to sound casual as I moved toward the door. I stepped into the dim hallway, glancing back once to catch Felicia's eye.

I padded down the hall, listening for any signs of her dad. The quiet was almost deafening, I found the bathroom door and slipped inside, locking it behind me.

Once the door clicked shut, I took a deep breath and started to change. The fabric of the suit hugged my skin as I transformed, the familiar rush of power coursing through me. Took me the entirety of Sunday to finish sewing this thing back together after what the Rhino did to it.

In moments, I was no longer Peter Parker, the awkward high school kid— I was Spider-Man, ready to face whoever and whatever, I could be everything that Peter isn't.

As I adjusted the mask over my face, a small part of me wondered what Felicia thought of this transformation. Does she see the hero? Or does she just see me? I pushed that thought aside.

Emerging back into the hallway, I felt a newfound energy thrumming through me. I walked back to Felicia's room, as she turned to see me.

"How do I look?" I grinned, spinning on my heel to show off the full glory of the suit.

Felicia paused, her eyes widening for a moment before settling into an amused expression. She placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head slightly. "Somehow, immensely more attractive than without the mask. I think it works for you. Now let's go." With that, she patted my shoulder and sauntered past me, her confidence radiating like the moonlight filtering through her window.

"What? That was a joke, right? Felicia? Was that a joke? Hey, come on!" I called after her, my cheeks warming beneath the mask. I wasn't sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.