Spider-Man Imagines I

Just Close Enough (Part Two) | Peter Parker [TH]

The next day, you woke up late. You had been panicked all night long and mostly into the morning, paranoid about getting taken to jail because of that stupid backpack, leaving you to fall asleep just as the sun was rising.

You got up in a similar fashion as a zombie would climb out of its grave. Your legs, having either apparently gained thirty pounds or traded flesh for iron, felt like they were moving through Jell-O as you trudged across the carpet. Your arms were shaking (probably from all the panicking) and you had a hard time shuffling through your clothes to find an outfit for the day.

You threw your hair up in a messy bun, unable to give much thought about looks. Not like anyone noticed you throughout the day, anyway. You went to a small public high school at the end of the city. Most kids there were either failing by choice or there because their parents made them go. You never fit in.

After putting on a few sad touches of makeup (a bit of eyeshadow, a smudge of eyeliner, a touch of mascara on your eyelashes and a stroke across your eyebrows), you decided that you looked simply okay.

Okay for a girl that was probably Spider-Man's least favorite person on Earth.

"Great," you said to your reflection in the bathroom mirror after you brushed your teeth. "Now if you ever need saving, he is going to take one look at you and remember that you stole his backpack, and then he'll leave you for dead." You sighed tiredly and shook your head, leaving the bathroom.

Back in your bedroom, you grabbed your essentials to stuff in your backpack. Your phone, headphones, charger, lip gloss, keys, and the book you're currently reading-

And then you stopped.

Spider-Man's backpack sat in front of you. You sighed, feeling drained as you picked it up and looked at it.

The navy fabric looked relatively new. Poor guy. He probably had recently bought it.

You looked at your own backpack, dingy and stuffed with school supplies. You wouldn't use Spider-Man's, of course. That would be a new kind of low.

But if you just carried his backpack today, then you could find him and give it to him.

By the look you got of the guy, he was a teenager. Spider-Man went to high school too, right?

You unzipped the bag and peered inside. Grabbing the stack of papers and folders inside, you sat back on your bed and shuffled through them.

The top worksheet had a name written on top.

Peter Parker

Oh, great.

Why had you expected the paper to have Spider-Man written on the top? Why did you think his name was really that? And, oh my gosh, he probably worked really hard to keep his identity a secret, and you just found it out through his homework.

What could you do with a name, anyway? There wasn't a Leter Parker in your school. He went somewhere else, but where?

You continued to dig, feeling bad the whole time. You needed to find a permission slip or a planner or some kind that had that kind of information.

A pink slip of paper was a sudden pop of color in the midst of science homework.

You pulled it out. A detention slip. You looked at the date - it was issued yesterday and the detention was for today. Poor guy had never had the chance to get it signed; the parent or guardian's line was blank.

REASON FOR DETENTION: Skipping class for the third time this month. No reason and no excuse.