In Queens, inside the Parker family's apartment, which always had a faint scent of baking and a warm atmosphere, the night's tranquility was broken by the slight rustle of a key in the lock.
Mei Parker was sitting on the living room sofa, mending one of Peter's old sweaters with worn elbows under the soft glow of a floor lamp. Hearing the door, she looked up, a warm smile naturally appearing on her face.
"Peter? Is that you, dear? Why are you a little later than usual today?" She put down her needlework, asking habitually. As a Nurse, she had a precise sense of time, not to mention her concern for the only nephew she had raised.
"Uh… yeah, it's me, Aunt Mei!" Peter's voice came from the entryway, carrying a hint of imperceptible urgency and… guilt? He kicked off his shoes, his movements heavier than usual, and hurried through the living room with his head down, seemingly wanting to slip straight back into his room. "Something happened on the way… I was delayed."
Aunt Mei keenly caught the hint of oddness in his voice and his posture, trying to avoid her gaze. She slightly furrowed her carefully drawn eyebrows. Peter recently… had been a bit off.
This 'offness' wasn't the usual rebellion or silence of a teenage boy, but a kind of… restless excitement intertwined with anxiety.
She recalled the details of the past few days:
When Peter ate, he would often stare blankly into the air, his fork suspended mid-air, a silly smile occasionally appearing on his lips for no reason, but the next second he might become crestfallen, sighing at the peas on his plate.
When chatting with her, he was always distracted. Last night, she excitedly told him a joke about the new intern Doctor at the hospital, but he just responded with "Uh-huh, ah-ha," his eyes wandering, and then suddenly blurted out: "Aunt Mei, what do you think about a job, if the pay is very high, but… it might change some things, should one accept it?" It left her completely puzzled.
He even spent less time tinkering with those "scientific experiments" in his room (she always thought he was making small inventions), instead spending more time with his old phone, his fingers rapidly swiping, the screen's light reflecting on his face, his expression changing unpredictably, sometimes longing, sometimes struggling.
These signs, combined, pointed to a very reasonable deduction in Aunt Mei's eyes.
"Peter," Aunt Mei called out to her nephew, who already had one foot in his room, her tone gentle but with an undeniable concern, "Have you… been troubled by something recently? Or… have you met some… new friends?"
She carefully chose her words, afraid of hurting the boy's sensitive self-esteem. In her rich life experience (mainly gained from TV dramas and hospital colleagues' gossip), a seventeen-year-old boy showing these symptoms was most likely related to "romantic problems."
Peter's body suddenly stiffened, as if his tail had been stepped on. He turned around in a panic, forcing out an exaggerated smile, trying to prove that "everything is normal": "New friends? No, Aunt Mei! What new friends could I make? It's just… it's just that schoolwork is a bit difficult, and the physics project group is also preparing a new… uh… topic! Yes, a topic!"
His explanation was self-defeating, his eyes darting around, completely unwilling to meet Aunt Mei's eyes that seemed to see through everything.
Aunt Mei's doubts deepened. She put down her sweater, stood up, walked over to Peter, and gently straightened his slightly messy collar, her actions as gentle as ever.
"Peter, you know, no matter what happens, you can tell Aunt Mei." She looked into his eyes, her voice as soft as the night wind, "Are you… in love? With which girl? Is it Liz? Or that… Michelle, who always comes to you for homework help?"
"In love?!" Peter recoiled sharply as if burned by the word, his face instantly turning crimson, waving his hands repeatedly, "No! Absolutely not! Aunt Mei, what are you thinking?! Liz and MJ… no, we're just classmates! Ordinary classmates!"
His reaction was too intense, which only further confirmed Aunt Mei's "diagnosis." In her opinion, this was entirely the standard reaction of a teenage boy whose secret had been exposed—shyness, denial, incoherence.
"Alright, alright, if it's not, it's not." Aunt Mei smiled understandingly, not pressing further, but the worry in her eyes did not dissipate, "But Peter, you must remember, no matter what it is, if it troubles you, or if it requires you to make some… important decisions, you must think it over carefully, and you can also come and discuss it with Aunt Mei, okay? You are still young, you don't need to bear many things alone."
Her meaningful words were like a feather gently tickling the most sensitive area of Peter's heart. Of course he was troubled, of course he was facing important decisions, but he couldn't confide in Aunt Mei. Was he supposed to tell her that her nephew was the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man of New York City, and was now struggling with whether to join a Hero Association founded by a former gang leader for money and equipment?
He could only lower his head, vaguely responding: "I know, Aunt Mei. Thank you. I… I'm a bit tired, I'm going back to my room now."
With that, he almost fled into his room, gently closing the door, as if to cut off both external concern and internal struggle.
Watching Peter's closed door, Aunt Mei sighed softly, walked back to the sofa and sat down, no longer in the mood to continue mending. She picked up the remote control, unconsciously flipping through TV channels, her mind filled with all sorts of guesses and worries about her nephew's "emotional problems." Was it unrequited love? Or had they argued? What kind of girl was she? Would it affect Peter's studies?
She was completely unaware that Peter's real troubles were far more complex and dangerous than a budding school romance. He wasn't agonizing over a girl's feelings, but over the heavy choice concerning power, responsibility, reality, and belief.
Meanwhile, inside his room, Peter leaned against the door, slowly sliding to the floor, exhaling a long, pent-up breath. He pulled out his phone; the screen was still on the tempting interface of the Hero Association APP.
Aunt Mei's worries were like a mirror, reflecting the chaos in his heart at this moment. He yearned for the "reward" that could change his current situation, but he also feared losing the purity of being Spider-Man.
"Online dating…" He chuckled softly to himself, his smile full of bitterness, "If only it were online dating…"
At least, that wouldn't involve the question of whether to prioritize payment when saving the World.
As night deepened, inside and outside the apartment, an aunt and nephew who deeply loved each other but couldn't truly understand each other's troubles, each harbored their own concerns, unable to sleep.
Aunt Mei was worried about Peter's potential "heartbreak."
And Peter, meanwhile, was engaged in a fierce ideological struggle over his "financial prospects" and "future" as Spider-Man.
A warm concern born of misunderstanding, and a serious choice regarding the path of a hero, were wonderfully intertwined in this small apartment.