~Broken Family~

Well, That Was Stupid

A/N: After this update, I'm going to take a(nother) quick hiatus to give me the chance to keep working on this, because I'm almost out of chapters to publish, which makes me super stressed. (Because even tho I took a 2 week break, I didn't get to write at all during that period) When I get the plot more underway, I'll keep publishing. Thanks for your understanding and patience, I REALLY appreciate it :3

Thank you especially @Pointbreak_Solangelo! Your comments make me want to keep the story going :)

(If anyone has any requests or suggestions for the story, now is the time to let me know!!)

***

Gwen spent every hour of every waking day on patrols.

It helped to keep her mind of things, to calm her down. It gave her something to do... a purpose. Not to mention, she was now the only web-slinger who could keep crime off the...

She pushed the thought out of her mind as she landed on the roof of the building her old dance studio had been in. She smiled to herself as the happy memories twirled throughout her head, along with the smell of chalk, floor wax, dirty socks, and new ballet shoes.

Her phone chimed, making her jump. Why could spidey-sense tell you when your toast was ready, but not say when your phone was going to go off? It wasn't fair.

Gwen, you need to get over here now! the text read. It was from Mrs. Roberts. Something happened! ;D

A jolt of alarm shot through her. She shoved her phone into the pocket of her suit (with a cool zipper like Peter's) and shot a strand of webs before she had even jumped off the building.

What happened? Who's hurt? Was it Billy?

Her heart pounded in her ears as, ten minutes later, she ducked behind the bushes of the Roberts' backyard to yank her normal clothes overtop of her suit. She shoved her webshooters under a bush for now, hoping no one would find them.

She wrenched open the sliding back door, looking around the kitchen in panic.

"What happened?!" she shouted. "Mrs. Roberts!"

She heard soft chuckling coming from the living room and she dashed towards it. "My goodness, Gwen, how'd you get here so fast? The library is a thirty minute---"

"Not important," Gwen snapped, staring at all of the other kids gathered around Mrs. Roberts' rocking chair, staring at an envelope clutched in her hands. Billy watched her carefully. "What's going on? You told me there was an emergency!"

"No," Mrs. Roberts sighed. "My goodness, Gwen, you don't have to get yourself so worked up. Everyone is fine, everyone is okay."

"Then why would you do that?!" she cried. "You know how scared I was? These times we live in, I--I---"

Mrs. Roberts sighed in understanding, rubbing at her eyes. She handed the envelope to Gwen, who flipped it around to read the front. Her blood turned to ice and a gasp escaped her lips.

DANCE, she saw Billy signing happily.

He was right. It was from the...Walters School of Dance. Address a little more upstate than even this house.

She tore into the envelope, feeling light. As soon as the hand-written letter was in her hands, she scanned it with increasing confusion.

Dear Miss Gwen Stacy,
We're so excited to have you as an assistant dance instructor! The kids are very excited, and we will appreciate the extra hands. We have been short of instructors, even before the events of last spring. We've heard what a spectacular dancer you are, and we believe that you are going to enjoy one of our advanced classes. Please email Betsy Hobbs when you have decided which class time you would like to attend. The first day of the kids' class you will be helping with is August tenth at five in the evening.
Can't wait to see you there!