black treacle - matt sturniolo

Chapter Sixteen, Face it, Tiger

Sure he thought random post-it notes telling Robyn to go somewhere was creepy, but its eerieness was only confirmed after the anonymous letter appeared in Matt's locker.

If you could even consider it a letter.

After opening his locker to grab his physics textbook, a large sheet fell onto his feet. Examining his surroundings and deeming it safe enough, Matt picked the paper off his tattered Converse and read its contents.

It was a copy of a news article -- he knew because the texture of the sheet in his hand wasn't grainy -- with the couple from the other day on the front cover. Even though he wrote a majority of the articles, Matt never read them, especially if they involved drama productions.

If he wanted to know what was going on, he'd start listening to the conversations around him, and if he wanted to watch a musical, he would buy tickets for Broadway instead of spending almost the same amount to watch teenagers act.

Anyways, after snapping out of his digression, Matt focused on the large red circle, focusing on the costume. Look familiar? The article asked him.

What? Were there no magazine letters to cut out? That would've at least fit the theme.

He wracked his brain and the resemblance had finally occurred to him. It had the same integrity as the King and Queen of Spade's questions: close to deconstruction. The thin gold thread was not enough to hold up their costumes.

After skimming the text, Matt found that Ashley's nickname was Ace, but he was stuck on deciding whether it was related to poker or just a nickname for the self-proclaimed star of the drama club.

Matt's breath hitched.

A newspaper hint about the villains? This had to be Robyn's doing.

Robyn helped Spider-Man immensely with the riddles and he was growing worried his warnings hadn't waned her away from pursuing the pair with him. After school, he'd drop in on her and ask if she was the one who sent him the message.

He'll decide later to thank Robyn or to scold her for being so incredibly idiotic. We all know he doesn't have the heart to do the latter.

"Was it you who sent me the article?" Spidey asked, dropping in beside her as she walked home.

"Holy shit." Matt grimaced when Robyn clutched her heart to stop it from popping out. It wasn't the first time he'd appeared beside her, forgetting how silent the spider moves towards its prey, but it happened enough for her to threaten him.

He gulped at the thought of the cat collar with a bell she told him she'd been eyeing if he dropped in like that again.

"Sorry. Was it you who sent me the article?" He repeated with increasing urgency.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Robyn stared at him in confusion. "What article?"

"You didn't do it?"

"Do what? God, you are so confusing! Weren't you the one who told me to stay away? And if you were right about me getting hurt, you should leave right now."

Thoughts of the article evaporated from Matt's mind as he stared at the foreign frown on Robyn's face.

"You're mad at me." He stated without a doubt. Robyn's face softened momentarily before returning to her blank demeanour. Matt's heart twinged in pain. Although Matt and Robyn were fine, he felt regret that he had cut ties between her and Spider-Man. Keeping her safe was his top priority but God he wish she wouldn't look at him like a stranger.

"I am not mad." Liar.

"I'm doing this for your safety, okay?" Reasoning with her might settle their conflict. Matt knew how much she valued logic, and if this led to her forgiving him even the slightest bit, he could abandon his urges to get on his knees and beg for her to take him back. "What if you got hurt?"

"But what about you, Spidey?" She retorted. But he noted there wasn't as much insult in her reply as one would assume. It was concern that laced her every word. "Not to discredit you or anything, but you know nothing about cards. In fact, I think I solved every one of your riddles. Face it, tiger, you need me as much as I need you."

Matt reminded himself that she was talking about Spider-Man's incompetence, and this wasn't an accidental confession. He also reminded himself about the dangers of the villains.

They weren't petty thieves or tax evaders. Their cards pierced through flesh swifter than bullets and their thirst to kill was insatiable. His fucked up DNA still had perks in regard to the self-healing blood cells. But Robyn wasn't blessed (cursed) with these powers.

He was lucky he escaped in time to fight while they were at the restaurant. What if they had seen her then? She could be dangling unconsciously off the World Trade Center before he could solve their riddle. Robyn was right about Matt needing her, but not at the extent of her life.

"You're right. But you're not helping me anymore."

"Spider-Man."

"Robyn."

She rolled her eyes and tightened her grip on her tote bag. "Good luck with the article or whatever. If you need help from a journalist who actually knows what she's doing, you know where to find me." Robyn waved him off and started walking home.

Of course, Matt wanted to cry and scream at Robyn's disappointment in him despite keeping his morals intact, but he had to make sure she got home safe. Tugging the web, he pulled himself onto the roof of the building to watch her from afar, knowing her fury would burn if she knew he was still there.

"I know you're watching me go home and I'm not even gonna bother telling you to go away so you might as well stop hiding."

Matt's brain and heart were usually in agreement and the argument between them sparked a migraine. It felt like a screw being drilled into his brain. Let Robyn help or keep her safe. Let Robyn help or keep her safe. Let Robyn help or keep her safe. He missed when his mind was strictly focused on what he was having for dinner.

Ultimately, he wasn't going to compromise his plan. Watching Robyn slam the curtains shut on him made him want to puke but it was for the greater good. Was it?

It took a hearty shawarma and a hot churro to relax Matt's mind. He could finally focus on the newspaper in his locker. If it wasn't Robyn, it had to be the King and Queen of Spades. Nobody else knows about his identity.

But Matt, what about your brothers?! What if they helped alongside the couple?! There was simply no way because Nick would've saved the horrendous stitching on the costumes and Chris's handwriting looked like chicken scrawls. The hint would've been illegible.

The only other people who knew where Matt's locker was and had access to the newspapers were Bryan and Sadie. He chuckled at the thought because it was strictly impossible. Come on, Bryan and Sadie as villains trying to decapitate him? There was just no way.

For fuck's sake. Not only did he disappoint the only person he cared for, but he also had to suffer through a play. Matt bought another shawarma on the way home to make himself feel better. He didn't need a tarot card reader to tell him his fate, Matt knew it was the card of death.