Spidey & Speedy - Central City Rush

Chapter 5 - You Never Know When It's Gonna Strike

***PETER***

Gwen mostly just hangs around behind me when I visit the photography section at the College of Arts seminar. I told her repeatedly she didn't need to follow me there, especially since this isn't something she's really interested in. My favorite response of hers? "You lost all going-off-by-yourself privileges this morning, Petey."

There isn't much of a photography department at this school, though. No surprise there - I've found it to be one of the more overlooked art forms, which is pretty sucky for me because it's the only one I'm remotely proficient in. And besides, I'd be going here more for the science stuff than for the photography. Even though I think I could make it as a photographer - just look at Jeff from Rear Window - Aunt May and Uncle Ben always advised me to pursue science for two reasons. One, it's the other big interest I've got. And two, it's more likely to be a practical course of study.

My only worry is that one day, I'll spend so long in that field that it'll turn me mad. Like Dr. Curt Connors. God save him, but he was so horribly misguided and desperate, and I always felt bad for him. Even when I was taunting him, while he was in Lizard form, in the halls of Midtown Science. "Aww, somebody's been a very bad lizard!"

The ensuing library fight - with the old-fogey librarian, Mr. Lee, completely oblivious to it all because he was listening to some classical suite or other as it played very loudly on his headphones - I think I had it coming. Not only for provoking the Lizard, but also for throwing Gwen out the window and webbing her up to break her fall. That move, which I came up with and executed in the span of maybe ten seconds at most, could have easily gone lethally wrong. And if that had happened, I don't know what I would have done.

There's only one other person who's got my level of interest in the CCU Photography Club. He's about my height, but he's got way more muscle than I do. He could almost be one of Flash Thompson's football teammates (and yes, Flash does play football in addition to basketball - more chances to sustain serious brain injury, but at least he has his way of keeping active pretty much year-round.) Almost - except I don't believe I've met him before. As one of the unofficial school paparazzi (Gwen calls me that, but if you so much as try to imitate her, I'll summon the cast of American Horror Story: Coven to scoop your eyeballs out with melon ballers), I often find myself taking pictures of just about every team the school has, academic or athletic. (I always laugh when I remember the time Uncle Ben saw the picture of Gwen and the debate team I was touching up on my computer. If it had been a picture of, say, the swim team, he probably wouldn't have gone so out of his way to point out how pretty the most front-and-center person in the shot was.) This guy, I don't recognize from any of my sports pictures.

There's something else about him that's a little off. It takes me a few seconds to figure it out, and then I kindly point it out to him. "Uh, dude? Your name tag is upside down."

"Huh?" The guy looks down at his chest, then laughs out loud. "Oh crap, you're right!" He hastily unsticks the name tag and switches it to its proper position. Now I can actually read it - "Dick Grayson," it says.

"Nice to meet you, uh, Dick," I say. "Or do you prefer 'Richard' or something?"

"Grayson works just fine," he says, shaking hands with me. "I kinda started rolling with the 'Dick' thing before I knew what it really meant." He reads my name tag, and adds, "I guess I can say the same about you, huh, Peter?"

"What do you mean?"

Grayson snickers to himself. "It's, uh...well, I saw an Honest Trailer once that was talking about how some character - also called Peter - was being cockblocked by his girlfriend's dad. The video said something about the dad making sure he 'stuck his peter anywhere but in his daughter.'"