Look 'bad luck' up in the dictionary. Go on. We'll wait. See there? That picture of an awkward college student tripping over his own feet? That's Peter Parker. He's majoring in chemical engineering, and by some stroke of (you guessed it) bad luck, t...
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Attending college lectures sounds easy enough in theory, but there were a dozen little things between waking up and actually arriving on campus that always prevented Peter from getting there on time. Getting out of bed was the hardest part. Peter often found himself complaining out loud whenever his alarm went off...to no one but himself, of course. He lived alone after all, in a damp apartment that smelt like condensation and looked like it was a few days from falling apart completely.
Then there was breakfast, and by breakfast Peter meant two cans of energy drink that he snagged from Johnny's place. What? It was totally nutritious and absolutely not going to give him a heart attack one day. Spiders don't have heart attacks. They probably don't even have hearts at all...just a massive black hole full of evil thoughts and replacement legs in case they ever lost one. Speaking of which, Peter had noticed how spiders always seemed to lose a leg. He unfortunately saw tons of them in his apartment under all the junk that he couldn't find the time to clean up. There were seven-legged spiders, a few five-legged, and there was one with only four limbs that he had spotted just yesterday, but eight? Nope. None, and if he ever found one, losing a leg wasn't going to be their primary concern. A giant shoe to their little hairy body would be. Peter hated spiders, as ironic as that sounded.
Stepping away from the subject of small insects, and towards bugs more...human-sized; next Peter had to find the mental strength to throw on his Spider-man suit. Have you ever swung around midtown in a tight-fitting outfit fighting off horde's of bad guys? Well, the sweat tends to stick and Peter didn't own a washing machine. Yes, it was kind of gross, but people were natural slobs and Peter Parker was no exception. He was only able to clean this costume once every week or so when his Aunt May volunteered at the homeless shelter (he'd have to sneak in like some common burglar to use her washing machine). She still didn't know about his alter ego, and he wanted to keep it that way.
Peter pulled the mask over his face, internally wishing that he hadn't opted for one that covered his mouth and prevented any fresh air from reaching him, then dove out of his window. A few web-swinging seconds later and he was shooting through the winding streets of New York. His destination was a tall building right across the street from his college campus; on the roof of which he kept his school bag and civilian clothes.
Why, you may ask? Well, because walking to school like everyone else had eventually become an unrealistic task. He would always run into trouble, and when he did he'd have to find a secluded place to throw off his normal clothes and hide his school supplies. This only ever succeeded in making him even later, for both class and the ass-whooping. Carrying the bag on his back as Spider-Man was also a no-go. It would tip people off about the age group he belonged to. So the only solution was to keep his bag near the campus, arrive there as Spidey, then leave as Peter Parker.
The morning was relatively crime-free this time, though. He saw a few jaywalkers and cars that were going slightly over the speed limit; but these weren't his battles to fight. He was instead looking forward to actually arriving on time for his lecture on Chemical Thermodynamics, and then to finally attend his tutorial with Annabelle. Peter swooned in mid-air and almost forgot to make himself a new web. He swung too close to the walkway and heard a few gasps as people jumped out of his way.
