The morning after Mom told me about George Stacy, I called Peter.
The phone rang three times before he picked up.
"Hey Adam." His voice sounded off. Tired. Like he hadn't slept.
"Hey. So, uh..." I didn't know how to ask this. "Is Gwen okay?"
Silence on the other end.
That was answer enough.
"It was her dad, wasn't it?" I said quietly.
"Yeah." Peter's voice cracked a little. "Captain George Stacy. He was... he was trying to help evacuate people during the attack. The lizard got him."
Damn it.
I sat down on my bed, feeling that hollow pit in my stomach again. The same one from when Dad died.
"How is she?" I asked.
"Not good. She's not answering my calls. Her mom said she needs space. I don't know what to do, man. I want to help but…"
"There's nothing you can do," I said. "Not really. Just be there when she's ready."
"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He paused.
"Just give her time," I said. "And let her know you're there."
We talked for a few more minutes. Mostly Peter rambling about feeling useless, about wishing he could've done something. I got it. I felt the same way when Dad died. Like if I'd just done something different, maybe things would've turned out better.
But that's not how life works.
It sucked.
====
That week was... interesting.
I spent most of it pretending to still be hurt. Yeah, the armor had somehow fixed me up, but there was no way I could explain that to Mom. "Hey, remember those bruised ribs and concussion? Gone now. Magic armor healed me. No big deal."
Yeah, that would go over well.
So I played it up. Winced when I moved too fast. Held my side when I went downstairs. Moved slowly and carefully like every step hurt. The whole act.
Mom bought it. Mostly because she was working so much that she barely saw me anyway. Long shifts at the hospital meant I had the house to myself most evenings.
Which was perfect for training.
Every night after Mom went to bed, or when she was still at work, I'd sneak down to the basement. Summon Grand Chariot. And practice.
I was getting better. Each night I could fly a little longer, move a little smoother. By the end of the week, I could actually do a full lap around the backyard without dropping out of the sky.
Progress.
The daily login rewards though? Those were a mixed bag.
Day 2: Box of Coca-Cola
Again. Seriously? Another box of soda? I stuck it in the fridge and didn't think much of it.
Day 3: Baseball Bat (Reinforced)
Okay, now we were talking. A metal baseball bat appeared on my bed.. I gave it a few practice swings. Felt good. I stored it away, figuring it might come in handy someday.
Day 4: Encyclopedia Britannica (Complete Set)
What.
Seriously?
Twenty-nine volumes of encyclopedia materialized in a stack on my floor. I just stared at them. Who the hell needed a physical encyclopedia in 2012? We had the internet for that.
I shoved them in my closet and tried not to think about how random this system was.
Day 5: Skill Card - Basic Gun Marksmanship
Now this was cool. A glowing card appeared, and the second I touched it, information flooded into my head. How to hold a gun. How to aim. Breathing techniques. Trigger discipline. All of it just downloaded into my brain like I'd spent years at a shooting range.
I didn't have a gun, but still. This was useful. Really useful.
Day 6: Bag of Premium Coffee Beans
Back to groceries. Great. At least Mom would appreciate this one. She loved coffee.
Day 7: Grappling Hook (Wrist-Mounted)
Okay, this was awesome. A sleek, compact grappling hook device materialized. It strapped to my wrist with adjustable bands. I tested it in the basement, shooting the hook at one of the support beams. It latched on with a satisfying click and the retraction mechanism worked perfectly, pulling me toward the beam.
I ate concrete, but still. This thing was legit.
Between the armor, the baseball bat, the marksmanship skill, and now a grappling hook, I was starting to build a decent arsenal. Sure, it came with some useless stuff like encyclopedias and soda, but the good items made up for it.
And thank god as by Friday, the doctor's note said I could go back to school on Monday.
I was about to go crazy staying at the house.
Don't get me wrong, having superpowers was cool and all, but there's only so much basement training a guy can do before he starts losing his mind.
I thought about going outside during the night. Putting on the armor and just... flying around the city.
Maybe stopping a mugging or something. Isn't that what people with powers were supposed to do?
But I don't know. Something kept me from doing that.
Fear, maybe? I mean, yeah, I had the armor. I could fly. I was strong. But what if I ran into something I couldn't handle? What if I messed up and got someone hurt? What if Mom finds out?
But I don't know. There was something that kept me from doing that.
Or maybe it was just that I wasn't ready yet.
And honestly? Part of me just wanted to be a normal kid for a little while longer. Go to school. Hang out with friends. Figure out this whole New York thing without worrying about monsters and supervillains.
Was that selfish? Maybe. But I'd just lost my dad, moved to a new city, nearly got killed by a lizard, and gained powers all in the span of a few weeks.
I think I was allowed to take things slow.
Besides, I had Monday to worry about first. Going back to school.
One problem at a time, right?
=====
"Hey!" Peter jogged up to me the second I walked through the school doors. He threw his arm around my shoulder with a grin. "I'm glad you're back, man."
"Yeah. Finally." I adjusted my backpack. "One more day at home and I would've lost it."
"Dude, I can imagine." Peter steered us toward the stairs. "Being stuck at home for a week? That sounds like torture. Well, except for the whole recovering from a giant lizard attack thing. That part's probably worse than boredom."
Then he started rambling. The guy could talk about anything and everything, jumping from topic to topic like his brain was three steps ahead of his mouth. It was kind of endearing, honestly.
We reached the second floor and I stopped. "Hey, how's Gwen?"
Peter's smile dropped. His arm slid off my shoulder.
Silence.
He looked down at his shoes, fidgeting with his backpack strap. "She's... yeah."
That was all he said.
I got it. He didn't want to talk about it. Maybe couldn't talk about it. Either way, I wasn't going to push.
"Speaking of which," I said, changing the subject. "Thanks for the notes. They really helped."
"Oh, yeah, no problem. I tried to make them as detailed as possible. Well, Gwen helped too. She's way better at organizing that stuff than I am. I tend to just write down everything the teacher says and then it ends up being like ten pages of nonsense that—"
"Peter."
"Right. Sorry. Rambling again."
We walked into the classroom together.
And there she was.
Gwen sat in the corner by the window, staring outside. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but it looked messier than before. Like she'd done it without really caring. Her eyes were distant.
Our eyes met for a second. Just a brief glance.
So I just gave her a small nod.
She returned it. Barely.
Then she looked back out the window.
Peter squeezed past me, heading to his seat near the back. I made my way to mine in the middle row.
"Oh my god, Adam!" Liz turned in her seat, eyes wide. "You're back! How are you feeling?"
"Better," I said, sitting down. "Still a little sore but nothing too bad."
"Dude, what a rough first day." She shook her head. "Like, seriously. Your first day at a new school and you get attacked by a giant lizard monster? That's insane."
I laughed.
"At least you're okay though.
The bell rang and Ms. Lind walked in, clapping her hands once to get everyone's attention.
"Alright, everyone, settle down. Let's get started."
By lunch, Peter found me at my locker.
"Hey, come sit with us," he said, jerking his thumb toward the cafeteria.
"Us?"
"Me and Gwen. I mean, if you want. No pressure or anything. But yeah, we usually sit together and I figured, you know, since you're back and everything—"
"Sure," I cut him off before he could keep rambling. "Sounds good."
We grabbed our food and headed to a table near the windows. Gwen was already there, picking at a sandwich she clearly had no interest in eating.
I sat down across from her. Peter slid in beside her.
Awkward silence.
I should say something, right? I mean, I knew what she was going through. I'd been there. Lost my dad too. But what was I supposed to say?
"Hey, Gwen," I started. "I'm sorry. About your dad."
She looked up. Her eyes were red, like she'd been crying recently. Or maybe she just wasn't sleeping. Probably both.
"Thanks," she said quietly.
"I... I know what you're going through. I lost my dad too. A few months ago." I paused. "It sucks. I'm not going to say it gets easier or any of that stuff people always say. But yeah. I get it."
She nodded. Just a small movement. Then went back to staring at her sandwich.
Peter cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, uh, Adam. What'd you do all week? Must've been pretty boring being stuck at home."
I was grateful for the topic change. "Nothing much, honestly. Just watched a lot of TV. Browsed stuff on my phone. Slept a lot. Doctor said I needed rest so that's basically all I did."
"That sounds awful," Peter said. "I'd go crazy doing nothing for a week."
"Yeah, it was pretty mind-numbing." I took a bite of my burger. "But hey, at least I'm back now."
"Anyway, Ms. Lind assigned a new group project. For English. We should probably figure out who's partnering with who."
We spent the rest of lunch talking about school stuff. Assignments. Teachers. Normal teenage things.
We didn't talk about the lizard. We didn't talk about Gwen's dad. We didn't talk about any of the heavy stuff.
Gwen barely said a word the whole time. Just sat there, present but not really there. I got it. Some days after Dad died, I felt the same way. Like I was just going through the motions, existing but not living.
It would take time. A lot of time.
All Peter and I could do was be there when she was ready.