Mara Lee is just your regular teenage girl living a double life as New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman. Until one fateful day when she's thrown through a strange orange portal and everything she's ever known changes drastically. Trapped in...
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"Can you tell me that things are going to be okay?"
I turned on my laptop, typing the passkey aggressively.
"Can you tell me that things are going to be okay?"
I pulled up my most recent training video.
"Can you tell me that things are going to be okay?"
I opened my notebook and logged the date.
"Can you tell me that things are going to be okay?"
I hit play, writing a title at the top of the page: "Training Log-Air Maneuvering Take Two."
"Can you tell me that things are going to be okay?"
I squinted at the recording of myself, trying desperately to center my mind and focus on my movements.
"Can you tell me that things are going to be okay?"
"Choppy," I muttered, noting the slight waver in my initial leap. "It needs to be smoother than that. Any slight unevenness could mess with the trajectory... but maybe the launch angle isn't the best in this scenario-"
"Can you tell me that things are going to be okay?"
"SHUT THE HELL UP!" I shouted, finally snapping. I pushed the notebook away, feeling nausea ripple through my body. I got up and pulled the window open, sticking my head out.
The fresh air washed over me, but it wasn't enough to ease the imbalance that was clutching at my chest like some sort of desperate fucker.
Why was I so messed up over this? Why couldn't I forget her question?
It wasn't only words that kept replaying in my mind. I kept picturing her face over and over again, remembering how those two blue eyes closed in a moment of hesitation before she made her request. I kept seeing them flit open, crystal clear for once, devoid of guard or secrets, containing nothing but the genuineness of her simple question.
I knew for certain that last night had been the first time those eyes had really looked at me.
And somehow, it had been the first time I'd looked back.
And this was information that I neither knew or cared to know what to do with.
So instead of thinking about it anymore, I ran a hand over my face and walked over to my mirror, tugging off one of the many stick-it-notes I had littered all over its surface. It read, 'Number One: Bakugo Katsuki.'
I took a deep breath. "You better believe it," I said to myself.
"KATSUKI! ARE YOU GETTING READY FOR SCHOOL!? YOU'LL BE LATE!!"
"GET OFF MY BACK!! I'M LEAVING!!"
I threw my uniform on, kicking the tie under my bed. I trudged downstairs.
