The Man Behind the Mask

*Gwen*

"Hey, Gwen. Where you going, baby?" Flash calls after me as I walk past him and my old group of friends.

"I have photo club before classes start. Sorry, Flash," I say quickly in order to avoid anymore face time with him. 

"Gwen!" He says, sounding almost desperate.

"Flash. No. Just no," I say.

I continue walking up the front steps and enter Midtown High School. The dark room is the only place in the school where I feel like I can totally unwind and be at peace. Flash and his buddies never come in here. It's so obviously just not cool enough for them. 

The fact that I went on a date and used to hang out with Flash just really makes me feel regretful.  How stupid can I be? To think that I used to think they were cool and knew everything about life.  I used to be shallow like them.

I could never go back to the way I was.  Not after everything that's happened.

"Hey,"  says a voice behind me.

I jump and whirl around, to face Peter Parker.

"You okay? You're a little jumpy there," He says. 

I nod. "Thank goodness it's just you."

He gives me a weird look.

"I don't mean....I just thought you were someone else." I say.

"Okay," He says, moving past me to collect his photos.

"Those, those are really good," I say, looking over his shoulder.

There's a picture of an older couple.  They both look very happy.  Not only are their mouths smiling, but the creases by their eyes show that they are truly, blissfully happy.

"Who are they?" I can't help but pry.

"That's my Aunt May and Uncle Ben," Peter says.

He's looking at the picture, and I can tell he really appreciates them.

"You live with them, don't you?" I ask.

"Wth my Aunt."

He looks lilke he's done talking to me, so I stop bothering him while he's working. That is, until I see his next picture. It's one of me. I'm sitting in the courtyard, on a lunch table.  And I'm reading my favorite book, Pride & Prejudice.

"Wow, that's really good," I say.

He looks uncomfortable that I found him out. But I don't care that he took a picture of me.

It's strange, but I actually really like it.

"I- I'm gonna go," I say, before I embarrass him or myself even further.

He grabs my hand as I turn to leave. "Here, since you like it," He says, and he hands me the photo of me.

"Thank you," I smile.

He gives a small smile back, and I leave the dark room, clutching the photo against my chest.

Peter Parker is different.