At 15, Peter Parker faces a harsh awakening after the tragic death of his uncle, realizing the weight of the responsibilities that come with his newfound powers. Balancing the challenges of high school, a mysterious new girl, and the shocking transf...
"Normally, I don't kill kids, but for you, I'll make an exception."
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"DRAWING from what we learned yesterday, you can illustrate the quantum—"
Three cups of coffee and two Five-Hour Energy shots—that's what it was taking to keep me upright in class. Every muscle in my body ached, the residual pain from my battle with the Lizard still clawing at my insides. It was hard enough to focus on Mr. Octavius' lecture, let alone stay awake. My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, and the lecture seemed to drift in and out of focus.
Sleep had been elusive ever since the fight. My wounds, hastily patched up on my own, still throbbed. I couldn't risk going to a hospital—that was an easy way to get found out. But at this rate, I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep taking these hits without someone noticing something off. Sure, my body healed faster than normal, a lot faster, but the bruises turned to scars at their own pace, and my cracked ribs? Still a problem.
"Hey, Pete," came a voice from beside me. "Pete."
I glanced over at Harry, who was grinning ear to ear.
"Yeah?" I muttered, trying to stay focused enough to avoid catching Professor Octavius' attention.
"What's going on with you lately, man? You've been acting super weird the past few days. Is it about your old internship? That one guy, uh... what was his name?" Harry asked, his expression shifting to mild concern.
"Doctor Connors," I replied quietly. The mention of his name brought back flashes of the chaos. The authorities had him locked up in a reinforced adamantium cage, courtesy of Oscorp. I had spent every spare moment researching ways to reverse what had happened to him. But so far? Nothing.
"Yeah, Connors. Is that what's eating at you?" Harry pressed.
I shook my head, fighting to keep my exhaustion out of my voice. "No. I'm just... tired."
Before Harry could say more, the bell rang. I quickly shoved my things into my bag, ready to escape the classroom. But as I stood, a familiar voice came from my left.
"That looks nasty."
It was Felicia. Her eyes flicked to the swollen black eye I'd earned last night when my arm gave out mid-swing. I face-planted on the concrete, pain exploding through me. "Oh, this?" I tried to shrug it off with a smile that probably looked as pathetic as it felt. "Yeah, well, got in a few good shots of my own."
Felicia's eyes narrowed in a way that told me she wasn't buying it, but before she could say anything, Harry slid an arm around her shoulders. "Listen, Pete," he said, puffing out his chest a bit, "if you need me to handle those jerks, just say the word. Flash wouldn't know what hit him." He flexed his arms for show, and Felicia rolled her eyes.
