Spider-Man: Finding a New Home [Andrew Garfield]

12

12.

Heartbreaker

Adalia

          Sitting in our school's laboratory, I watch in awe as the three Peter Parker's get to work. They converse about different approaches to create each cure, and they bond over their shared intellectual knowledge. It's quite heartwarming, yet surreal to see three Peter Parker's coming together to stop their villains from wreaking havoc. They put on protective eyewear, and at one point, the second youngest Peter grabs a lab coat, too.

Ned, MJ, and I sit with one another at a table, watching the Spider-Men get to work. Soon, however, we get bored, and want to see the action up close. One by one, we leave the table, but I'm the last to stand, and approach my Peter—who I sense tension with because of our fight—including his variants. Although I want to search for answers and get insight about the variants of myself, I feel like I'd be bothering and distracting them from their work. Ned and MJ have no problem speaking to all three Peter's, but I try to keep my distance. In truth, I'm a little shy, and embarrassed—two traits that have stuck with me since I was a child.

But, do I really want to sit here alone in fear of being a bother?

Do I really want to miss the opportunity to get to know the other variants of myself from the lenses of people who know me personally?

The answer: no.

After they've cured the villains, the variants will go back to their universe, and I'll have missed my chance to talk to them.

With hesitation, I get up from my seat. I force my legs to move me forward, and without much contemplation, I head to the first Peter I see—the oldest one; he's alone at a lab table. He has a few stress indentation lines on his forehead as he observes a tube of dark-green liquid in his hands. He, then, places it into a test tube rack before grabbing another tube. He senses my approach, and he throws a quick glance my way. A smile makes its way onto his face, and the corners of my lips do the same. I'm a foot away from him, and I see a lab chair open for me to take, but I refrain from sitting down. I don't want to make him uncomfortable by being too close to him; I'll keep my distance.

"Hey, there," Peter says with a wide smile. His eyes brighten, as I greet him in return. He continues his work without missing a beat, and asks, "Would you like to take a seat, Adalia?" Opting to take him up on his offer, I pull out the lab chair that scrapes against the linoleum floor. I sit down, and hesitate to find the words I want to say. What do I say? What do I ask? But Peter saves me from my inner conflict. "You know," he says, grabbing my attention, "it's so weird to see you like this."

His words piques my interest. "Why?" I ask. I place my arms atop the black-colored table, and peer at him through my long lashes. "Weird, how?"

He chuckles, and pours more dark-green liquid into another test tube. "You're a lot younger here," he says. Every so often, he'll glance at me, and each time it's like a shock to him. "In my world, you're older. You're my age."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he says, finding my lack of a response amusing. "It's like a trip down memory lane."

"So, you know me—well, your version of me—personally," I say as a statement. He nods his head, and several questions swirl around my head. I don't know which one to ask first. "What am I like?"