"Hey, Pete!" Miles Morales called out unexpectedly, his voice echoing above the dull city hum as he jogged up beside me, grinning beneath the brim of his battered Yankees cap.
We were a couple of blocks away from school, backpacks slung low, and neither of us seemed in any kind of hurry. Walking together was always better than going solo.
"Hey, Miles, how's it going?" I greeted, trying to sound extra cheerful, masking the half-forgotten fatigue from last night's cram session with a forced smile. The fresh air felt restorative, and a friend's company made everything seem just a little more bearable.
"Great, man! How about you? After yesterday, honestly, you looked awful," he said, elbowing me playfully.
I could tell he meant well, but the reminder stung a bit.
"Actually, I'm feeling great. I just needed more sleep," I replied, stretching my arms behind my head as we walked. Life was always better after a few extra hours of rest. The world seemed brighter, and even the birds sounded less obnoxious.
"Awesome, did sleep magically cure your eyesight? Where are your glasses?" Miles suddenly squinted at my face, searching for the familiar black frames. He noticed that right away, and a grin started playing at the edge of his lips.I chuckled, shaking my head in disbelief at how quickly he'd caught on.
"No, it wasn't some overnight miracle," I laughed. "I just don't need them anymore. Vision training techniques and eating properly really do work—and I'm not joking, those things really improved my eyesight." Miles gave me a mock serious glare.
"Congratulations, that's impressive. Did it really work?"
"Yeah. My case wasn't even the worst." I shrugged. "I read about kids who went from nearly blind to seeing great, all through changing their habits and being consistent. Sometimes it feels like cheating the system, honestly."
We continued chatting about random stuff as we strolled toward school, each step bringing us closer to another typical day beneath fluorescent lights and crowded hallways. Past the fence, on the school grounds, the usual crowd was already there. Students milled around in noisy clumps, some huddled over phones, others trading homework answers or gossip about yesterday's drama.
I spotted Thompson's clique immediately; they were hard to miss, always positioned like they owned the entire yard. Thompson stood at the center, tall and cocky, with Ken and the rest of his crew circling around him like loyal satellites.
"Uh oh, Ken, check it out—there's Parker and his new buddy. Think the new kid's as quick as Petey?" Flash's voice carried over, splitting the morning quiet and slicing through our small bubble. He always did this—public taunts, a challenge disguised as a joke.
"I don't know, Flash. Should we test them?" Ken smirked, nodding mockingly in our direction. The rest of the group laughed, each snicker louder than the last as they sized us up.
"Maybe you two should run off before you embarrass the rest of the students," I teased, grinning as I stepped closer, biting back any nerves threatening to surface. Sometimes leaning into their games was the only way to keep your dignity.
"Well, look who's talking now. Feeling gutsy, Parker?" Flash sneered, puffing his chest as if the yard were his boxing ring.
"Certainly not more cowardly than a blockhead who only picks on the smaller kids and hides behind his friends, pretending to be the school's king," I shot back, letting years of pent-up frustration slip into my words. "Wake up, Thompson—you're pathetic, and the sooner you realize it, the better." The words came out sharper than I'd intended, but I didn't regret it—not that day.
The silence that followed was almost alarming. It wasn't just the jocks and cheerleaders who stared, but every student within earshot. Even the teachers glancing through the windows seemed to pause mid-motion, their expressions unreadable. I hadn't even tried to whisper, yet now my words hung over the crowd like smoke. Of course, Flash couldn't stand such a blow to his kingdom.
He stomped over, grabbed my collar, and hissed, "Today. After school. At the warehouse on Brawley Lane. You're dead." His grip was forceful, but shaking with more rage than actual strength.
"We'll see who comes out on top," I replied evenly, not flinching, fighting to keep my face as calm as possible.
Thompson glared, nostrils flaring, then shoved me back hard, motioning for his gang to head inside. With one final sneer, he turned away, as if my words weren't worth one more second of his attention.
"Dude, are you out of your mind?! Flash will crush you!" Miles spluttered as soon as they were gone, his voice low, eyes wide. For a moment he stared at me, jaw practically on the pavement.
"Don't worry, man. A wise warrior knows the right time to provoke a fight," I said, my lips trying to force bravado.
"You know watching Bruce Lee films doesn't make you a martial artist," Miles commented skeptically, shaking his head like he couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed.
"Really? That's disappointing. That was my big strategy," I answered, feigning a dramatic sigh of despair, and Miles nearly burst out laughing despite himself.
"You actually have a plan, right?"
"Why don't you come along and find out?" I shrugged, shifting my backpack and smirking. I wanted him there—maybe not just as backup, but as a witness.
"Of course—I'll be the one hauling your broken body home to your family," Miles snorted, though his tone betrayed his worry.
"Hey, don't be so negative, Miles. Think of the bright side. Your dad's a cop, so if anything happens, my restless spirit can relax knowing Flash is behind bars thanks to your testimony."
"How reassuring," Miles sighed, his sarcasm unmissable. Even so, a sliver of a smile appeared on his face as he matched my steps. We entered the school and drifted toward the lockers. Most days, the walk from the front doors to the homeroom felt endless, but today the halls buzzed with a different energy.
Rumors had started already. Miles was just an ordinary kid; perhaps it hadn't been fair for me to think he wouldn't seek out his own powers someday. What's done is done. Besides, in the comics, he got bitten by a different spider, so maybe fate would intervene yet. I swapped my books out, closed my locker with a soft clang, and immediately found Gwen Stacy's disapproving glare right in front of me, her arms crossed and eyebrow raised.
"Oh my God, Gwen! Seriously, do you have any idea how freaked out I was?" I exclaimed, startled by her sudden appearance, struggling not to jump.
"What did you do? Every girl in school is talking about your fight with Flash. Peter, I've only been here two days, and I already get how things work." Gwen's eyes were alight with concern and, maybe, a little curiosity.
"It's probably the instincts you get from being a cop's daughter," Miles piped up, throwing Gwen an apologetic smile.
"That's right. They say all police daughters have it," I nodded, trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably.
"This isn't funny, Pete. School's just like a jungle: there are alpha predators, and there are the peaceful ones who graze. That's just how it is at our age, and Flash is definitely a predator." Gwen's voice was soft but firm, and I could tell she'd thought about this before.
"So maybe the 'peaceful' kid should show he's really a wolf in sheep's clothing?" I grinned, picking up Gwen's analogy, keeping things playful.
"Are you really certain, Peter?" Gwen asked anxiously, her blue eyes narrowing as she tried to read my face.
"I've got a plan. Trust me." I smiled confidently, hoping some of my certainty would rub off on her.
"I hope so," she sighed, relenting, but still clearly unsure. "Let's get to class."
We wound our way through the busy corridors, where rumors traveled faster than lightning. It seemed like every glance carried whispers about the fight, and despite the chaos, Miles kept glancing at me as if looking for any sign I might run for my life.
The day stretched ahead, filled with possibilities and challenges, and as we settled into our seats, I realized that sometimes, all you could do was trust in your own strength and the plan you'd made—uncertain though the outcome might be.
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Vote with more power stones guys, that way I can upload more chapters.