To Be A Hero | Peter Parker

00: "i'm no kid genius"

Song chapter: Lake Effect Kid by Fall Out Boy

A school field trip to the Museum of Science and Industry didn't seem like a life changing outing to me. Of course, I would be proved wrong later that day. But, no matter. We'll get to that, eventually.

The school buses carrying the 9th graders of Lincoln Park High School were old and dingy, with fraying vinyl seats and an abundant amount of gum stuck to various surfaces. The sky was overcast, raining on and off all day, no doubt dampening my already bad mood from being dragged to a museum where I was sure I'd learn nothing new. The roads on this side of Chicago needed some serious TLC; I couldn't lean my head on the windowsill without getting a concussion from the bus bouncing over several potholes. 

Also, one of my earbuds busted, and one wasn't enough to drown out the fifty kids surrounding me, talking all at once. 

Maybe we'd meet some scientists, see some pictures of dinosaur bones discovered over the latest century, and have lunch outside - unless of course it started to rain again. But I had my doubts, and I knew nothing I saw today would interest me, unless it was pertaining to physics or quantum mechanics.

I know what you're thinking.  A fourteen year old talking about quantum mechanics and physics must be a child prodigy, right? Wrong. I just had my interests narrowed down to a tee. I'm not saying I wasn't gifted in the science department. It was definitely my best subject, but I was no kid genius. 

The buses arrived at the museum a little after 9 AM, and everyone piled off to find their friends as I was the last person to step down onto the pavement. Our tour guide greeted the 9th grade class on the steps of the front doors to the building, and I straggled to the back of the group with the teachers. I could already tell it was going to be a long day.

If it's not obvious to you now, I'll spell it out for you: I was a loser. 

I didn't have friends; I didn't need them. Relying on others only resulted in disappointment. It's a grim outlook for a fourteen year old to possess, but it saved me a lot of trouble and heartache that I otherwise would have had, had I opened up and drop the cold exterior with strangers. I watched friendships form and fall apart throughout my years of being an observer during school hours. I didn't need all of those unnecessary burdens when I had enough to worry about, like homework, for instance. 

Kids tried to include me, and I'm grateful for the effort. I just wished they would have extended the effort towards someone who wanted the attention. Once everyone my age figured out that I would rather be alone, being alone became easy. Sometimes, it was almost too easy.

Walking through the halls, listening to the tour guide explain such mundane subjects that I didn't care about made time slow to a crawl. I wasn't the only one, though; No one else seemed to be listening to what she was talking about. It had been a long day of following her around the museum, and some of us would rather be sitting in a desk right now. 

My interest was peaked, however, when we reached the final part of the tour: The Wildlife facility. There was a glass dome over the center of the large room, and all sorts of plants were growing up the walls. The many sections of the room overwhelmed me, and I wished we'd spent the whole day there. 

I don't know how long she had been talking as I was gawking, but I started listening intently when I heard the word, "spiders." To this day, I can't explain why I was so interested in these spiders. I felt drawn to them. They weren't ordinary spiders, I'd learned they were experimental subjects. Whether it was experimentation through chemicals, radiation, or something else, I did not know. I just wanted to see one. 

My fellow classmates weren't particularly interested in the spiders, and usually I wouldn't have been, either. But the sudden interest in them can't be described by anything other than one word: Fate.

As the group moved on to another display, I stayed behind to get a good look at the spiders. In hindsight, it was pretty dumb for so many adults to leave a kid alone with a scientific display. It was so dumb, the event almost seemed cosmic, or meant-to-be. I just wouldn't realize it until a year later, when I learned of another 14 year old kid getting bitten by a spider, in a museum, on a field trip, halfway across the country.

You all know what happened next. I'll spare you the details of waking up the next day with muscles I never knew were possible to have, suddenly perfect eyesight causing me to no longer need my glasses, and of course, the ability to climb walls. We've all heard the story too many times.