The Man Behind the Mask

Can't Get You Out of my Head

*Peter*

Gwen's smile stays with me throughout the rest of the school day.  She actually liked the picture I took of her.  I just can't believe it.  When she first saw it, I started to sweat.  Great, now she thinks I'm a stalker, I had thought.  But no, she had admired it.  And when I let her have the picture, she seemed grateful and appreciative. 

I've never had much luck with beautiful and intelligent girls.  Though I am intelligent myself, I seriously lack in the charm and suave department.  Take Mary Jane, for instance.  I had been in love with her since we were little kids.  I've never told her; I can barely talk to her.  I think I've been getting over that, though.  She is a cheerleader and is often busy with people like Flash and Heather and all of them.  Come to think of it, Gwen used to hang out with that crowd too.  But this year, not so much.

Of course, I had a pretty good idea why.  Her father died at the end of last year.  Police Chief Stacey was a good man, regardless of the fact that he had hated me.  Or at least, the spandex wearing me.  He thought Spider-man was a vigilante, and maybe he was partly right.  But I have a duty to the city of New York; I have to protect it and the people in it.  However, I feel responsible for the death of Chief Stacey, who died at the hands of a scientist who had morphed himself by injecting lizard genes into his blood stream, and who I had tried to stop from destroying New York. 

Ever since I was bitten by the spider where Gwen interns, Oscorp, I've had abilities. Power. And with great power, comes great responsibility.  At least that's what Uncle Ben told me the day he was car-jacked and gunned down. That had been my fault.  I let the guy get away.  Then he killed Uncle Ben. Aunt May has been strong; she always has been.  I've been trying my best to take care of her.  It's hard to do that, be Spider-man, and still try and keep up with school.

So even if I could charm any girl, I wouldn't have time for that.

But that doesn't stop me from admiring the blonde and insanely smart Gwen.  She's the only person that seems different than the others.  Besides my best friend Harry.  But he's not a long-legged, rosy cheeked girl...who smiles at me.

Speaking of Harry, he comes my way and slaps me on the back.

"You got a date yet, Pete?" He asks.

"A date for what?" I said, my mind on my errands I have to run for Aunt May and any possible crimes that might happen tonight.

"For the Homecoming dance on Saturday.  C'mon Pete, I want you to be there. We've hardly gotten to hang out in months. You're always so busy.  It will be fun," Harry persuaded.

"Who would I ask?" I said, thinking no one would be caught dead going to Homecoming with Peter Parker.

"How about Mary Jane? You can finally stop fantasizing and actually just ask her on a date," He says.

"Uh, I don't think that'll happen," I say, looking at her across the courtyard, with an arm on Falsh's shoulder. 

Then Gwen walked by in front of us, her nose buried in a book.  A scientific journal rather, on genetic species mutations.  That sparked my interest. 

"Oh, I see. You've got the hots for Gwen!" Harry said, shoving me in the shoulder as he followed my eyes.

"No."

"Yes."

"Fine...she's...interesting," I say, giving in, knowing Harry will never let me live it down, just like with the whole Mary Jane thing.

"Well, go ask her!" He says.

"I can't just go ask her," I say.

I don't need a date. My life is complicated enough, as is. 

"Fine, then. I will," Harry says, starting to walk her way.

"Goddamit, Harry," I say, shoving past him.

He stops and smirks as I head towards Gwen, who is now leaning against a tree.

"Hey, Gwen?" I ask.

She looks up, annoyed. But then she sees it's me.  Is it just me, or did her face just soften?

"Hi, Peter,"  She says.

"Hi," I say.

A moment's pause. She laughs. "Thanks again for the photo."

"Yeah? No problem. I'm glad you like it," I say.

She smiles, her cheeks glowing.

I don't say anything, and I know I should. I should just ask her.

"Would you? -" We both say at once.

We laugh nervously. "You first," She says.

"No, you," I say.

"Would you show me how? To take pictures like that, I mean?" She asks.

My stomach jumps. "Yes! I mean, yeah, sure, no problem."

"Today after school, maybe?" She says.

I already know my plate for the day will be full.  But she's looking at me with those big hazel eyes, that sometimes change colors to blue or gray, and I can't help but nod and smile.

"It's a date," She says, sauntering off.

Harry comes up behind me.  "Well, did you do it?"

"No." I say.

"Pete!" He sighs.

"But I have a date," I say, wondering whether she meant it how I heard it.