At the end of class I gathered my things and was heading for the door when I heard her call out, "Hey, Muscles — wait up."
I blinked. Was she calling me? That seemed unlikely. I kept walking. Then a hand caught my shoulder and spun me around.
"I said wait up," she said flatly.
I raised an eyebrow. "Did you just call me Muscles?"
"Yeah. Obviously," she snorted.
"Are you serious?" I blinked. "Because last I checked I'm supposed to be skinny as anything. If it's muscles you want, Flash is your man."
"Ha! Finally something we can agree on, Parker!" Flash called out from nearby, grinning as he slid between us. "So, you want something, babe?"
"Not from you, meathead," Felicia said without missing a beat. "Move. I was talking to Muscles."
"Muscles?" Flash laughed. "Are you crazy? Parker's a twig! He can't even lift a dumbbell!" A few kids watching the exchange laughed along. I just rolled my eyes. If only they knew.
"Then you're blind," Felicia replied simply. She stepped past Flash and into my space. I blinked as she pressed her hand flat against my chest and pushed lightly. "Don't let the baggy clothes fool you. Muscles here is packing something substantial underneath."
She was watching me the way a cat watches a mouse — eyes daring me to flinch. I knew most of the school still thought of me as the quiet, scrawny kid, despite how much had changed in the past month. She clearly expected me to look away.
She was wrong.
"You know, Felicia, if you're going to cop a feel, you should at least buy me dinner first," I said pleasantly.
Her eyebrows rose slightly before a slow smirk appeared. "Well, Muscles — what would you like to eat?"
"You?"
"Going a little fast there."
"Says the woman rubbing her fingers around my chest."
"Am I? Oops," she said, stepping back. Her expression shifted. "I do actually need to talk to you though. Have a minute?"
"Lunch?"
"Starving."
"Lead the way," I said, gesturing ahead. I glanced back at Flash's hanging jaw and very nearly closed it for him. Then I followed Felicia to the cafeteria.
"I don't like her," MJ said tightly as she watched Peter leave with the new girl.
"What a surprise," Liz remarked, rolling her eyes. "I wonder why that is."
"It's not like that," MJ said, blushing.
"Sure it isn't. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart — maybe one day it'll even be true." Liz turned to Flash. "And what exactly were you thinking?"
"Babe — nothing, I was just being friendly to the new girl, I swear—"
"Save it, Flash," Liz said. "If I ever catch you flirting with that girl again, we are done. Understand?"
"But Liz—"
"Understand?"
Flash sighed. "Yes."
"Come on," MJ said, already pulling Liz by the hand. "I want to see where they went."
"Oh, relax. Parker's finally getting some attention — let the kid enjoy it for five minutes," Liz replied, even as MJ dragged her along without a second thought.
Felicia and I took a table in the middle of the cafeteria. I could feel eyes on us from every direction. I usually sat in a corner to avoid attention, but this had been Felicia's choice. Was she making a statement? Possibly. But for what reason, I wasn't sure yet.
I took out my lunch and started eating. Felicia raised an eyebrow at the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Is that seriously all you brought?"
I shrugged. "I eat more at work. A friend and I usually end up eating out — the office covers it, so lunch isn't really a concern."
"Hm," she said. "Where do you work?"
"Somewhere special."
"You're not going to tell me?"
"Are you going to tell me your life story?"
She smirked. "Fair enough. So, Muscles — tell me why people avoid you."
I sighed. "Please don't call me that. It's ridiculous. If you're going to give me a nickname, make it something decent — Pete, Petey, anything. Muscles sounds like I have an ego problem."
"Hm. No. I like it."
I rolled my eyes. "I had a feeling you'd say that."
"Now are you going to answer the question or keep deflecting?"
I shrugged. "Nothing to tell, really. They don't like me, I'm antisocial, I'm smart enough that people find it easier to just avoid me. A friend once told me they're intimidated, but I don't really think that's it."
"Maybe. Maybe not," Felicia said, opening a neat container of chicken salad. "But you know what I think?"
"That you should eat more than a salad?"
"A girl has to keep her figure."
"Somehow I think you could manage that eating burgers," I replied.
She smiled. "Checking me out, have you?"
"About as much as you've been checking me out," I said.
"You know, I'm starting to understand why people are wary of you. You're perceptive. And dangerous."
I blinked. "How so?"
"Think about it. You said it yourself — I've been watching you. And you don't behave like a teenager. You're ignored, and you don't mind. In fact, sometimes you prefer it. Teenagers hate being ostracised. We can't stand it. But you're used to it, and what's more, you use it. And you're smart — smart enough to be in university right now, yet for some reason you're here instead. You're hiding, Muscles. A genuine prodigy gets put in the spotlight, but a teenager who's brilliant and still in school? No. You're hiding something. And I'm going to find out what."
I couldn't stop the look of surprise that crossed my face. I stared at this silver-haired girl sitting across from me and realised she was probably the closest anyone had ever come to seeing through me. I knew I should have felt alarmed. Unsettled, at the very least.
Instead I was impressed.
"You know, Felicia, I think I'm in love," I said.
"Sorry, Muscles. You're not my type," she replied, smiling.
I shrugged. "I figured. So — why did you want to talk? Just to tell me you think I'm dangerous, or was there something actually important?"
Felicia sighed. "Mr. Goldberg," — our physics teacher — "told me I need to improve my grades. I started late in the semester, so I have a lot of catching up to do. He suggested I ask you for help."
"Which is when you started observing me," I concluded.
"Exactly," she nodded, picking at a piece of boiled chicken. "Though to be honest, I wasn't originally going to bother at all. I have no interest in sitting through hours of some know-it-all lecturing me. I get enough of that in class."
"So you've deemed me worthy. I'm honoured."
"Not quite. I wasn't going to bother — until I heard what you said. In history," she clarified when I looked confused. "About how the names we choose say more about who we truly are than the ones our parents gave us. About how a name carries both the hopes people have for us and the weight of what we actually become. That struck a chord with me. So I figured — why not? You're interesting enough."
I stared at her for a moment.
I take it back. I don't think I'm in love. I know I'm in love. What a shame she wasn't interested in Peter Parker.
"So you want me to tutor you," I said.
"Pretty much, yeah."
"I don't have a lot of free time," I told her honestly. Between Colleen's classes, the Baxter Building, and Spider-Man, my schedule was already stretched. Adding her in would be a challenge. But — she'd made me curious, and I wanted to know more about this girl with the silver hair and the sharp eyes. "I can manage one hour after school. That's the best I can do."
"Wow. Only one hour? Half the boys in this school would kill for any excuse to spend time with me."
"Yeah, well, they aren't me. I do have a life, you know."
"Like what?"
"A job."
"Oh right. The mysterious job," she said, her tone gently mocking.
"You think I'm lying?"
"Yes."
"Why would I lie about having a job?"
"Because you don't want people to see how lonely you really are."
"Didn't you just say I didn't mind being alone?"
"I also said you like to blend in. Give people no reason to suspect anything."
I laughed. "Alright, you've got me there. But I am serious about the one hour. Sorry."
"Fine," she sighed, pushing a piece of cucumber around her plate. "I don't think I could stand more than an hour of you anyway."
"And there it is," I snorted. "By the way — you look like a cow if you keep chewing on that leaf."
She turned a glare on me sharp enough to cut glass. Then she swallowed, set down her fork, and said calmly, "So, Muscles. What else keeps you so busy that you can't spare any time for company?"
"Mostly my job," I shrugged. "It's in Manhattan, so the commute eats up time. And I go to self-defence classes, so there's that too."
"Self-defence," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Who would be foolish enough to pick a fight with you?"
"Flash," I said.
"...Right." She glanced over my shoulder. "You mean the large blonde over there who's filling the role of the school bully?"
I turned and spotted Flash scowling at me and MJ watching Felicia with barely concealed irritation. The moment MJ caught my eye she looked away. Flash just kept scowling.
I snorted. "That's him."
"Hm. Looks like he can barely spare two brain cells at once."
"Maybe fewer," I shrugged.
"What kind of martial arts are you learning?" she asked, leaning in slightly, curious now.
"Kendo," I replied.
"You do know that's not really self-defence, right?" she said, amused. "It's just swinging a sword."
"It's a lot more involved than that, believe me." And considering I'd had her pinned on a rooftop two nights ago using those very techniques, I wasn't about to dismiss them.
"Okay, so you're in a fight and you don't have a sword. Doesn't that make your training useless?"
"Not at all. Kendo isn't only about the sword — there are other principles involved. And I've just started hand-to-hand taijutsu, so the classes aren't a waste." Not to mention that my teacher could kill everyone in the room bare-handed without raising her heart rate.
Felicia shrugged. "Your call. Don't come crying to me when some punk with a knife gets the better of you."
"I don't see that happening," I said, finishing my sandwich. "Tell me, Felicia — what kind of martial arts do you practise?"
She raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I practise martial arts?"
"The fact that you clearly know what you're talking about?"
She chuckled. "Fair enough. No point denying it. Judo and taekwondo," she said.
"Well, you certainly have the legs for taekwondo," I said.
"Perv."
"Stalker."
"Weirdo."
"Same thing," I chuckled.
We talked more after that — she questioned me on everything, what I liked, what I didn't, and I made sure to learn just as much about her in return.
Lunch ended too quickly. We said our goodbyes and went to our separate classes.
I was actually looking forward to the tutoring session later, which meant I barely paid attention in last period. That lasted until my spider-sense fired and I dodged left — just in time to let a paper ball sail past my ear.
I looked back. MJ was staring at me, startled — then she schooled her expression and quickly scrawled something in her notebook before turning it toward me.
'What's going on with you and Hardy?'
I rolled my eyes and wrote back.
'She asked me to tutor her in physics after school.'
MJ's brows went up.
'Can I join? I could use help too.'
'I'll check with Felicia — she asked first.'
'Okay.'
It was strange seeing MJ jealous — or at least, what I was fairly sure was jealousy. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me feel just a little proud. It was the first time anyone had been jealous on my account. I was choosing to enjoy it.
After school, I met up with Felicia outside the building, and she led me to a coffee shop a block away. She greeted the owner warmly — he was apparently a family friend, someone her mother knew — and we settled at a table near the back, away from everyone else.
"Come here often?" I asked.
"Once or twice," she shrugged. "I figured it was a decent spot to get some studying done."
"You know the library's open until five, right?"
"I told you, I don't want to spend a single extra minute in that building. Now do you want something to drink or not?"
I thanked her and declined. We got to work. What I discovered quickly was that while Felicia was sharp in her own way, physics was not her strongest subject. It took patience to walk her through the basics, but I think it clicked by the end.
I also noticed something interesting. When the barista came over with Felicia's order, her eyes followed the woman as she walked away.
Hm. Was Felicia Hardy bisexual in this world? The way she'd been looking at me earlier suggested she wasn't entirely uninterested in men, but — well. She just kept getting more interesting.
The hour passed faster than I would have liked. As we left the coffee shop, I brought up MJ.
"I mentioned to a friend that I was tutoring you today, and she asked if she could join. Do you mind?"
"Depends. Who?"
"Mary Jane."
"Ah. Her." Felicia glanced at me. "She likes you."
I shrugged. "Maybe."
"You know?" She sounded mildly surprised.
"Yup. What — did you think you were the only observant one?"
"No. So what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know. What makes you think I need to do anything?"
"She likes you."
"And she hasn't told me. She hasn't asked me out. Before school started we were close — really close. But then she got popular and I got pushed aside. I don't hold a grudge."
Felicia shrugged. "Fine. Do whatever you like, Muscles. I couldn't care less. But I need to pass my physics paper, so if you start spending my tutoring sessions making eyes at the redhead instead of teaching me, I'll kick her ass."
"Understood," I said agreeably.
And with that, we went our separate ways.
I headed to training with Colleen, then to the Baxter Building for an hour before swinging out into the night as Spider-Man. I got home around nine and went through the motions of going to bed.
Once I was certain May and Ben were settled in for the night, I slipped out in costume and resumed my patrol.
It was a long night. For now, I was basically on damage control — stopping crimes after they started but never reaching the root cause. Until I figured out who to target next, that wouldn't change.
For the next week or so, this was my routine. School, then an hour of tutoring with Felicia and MJ. The redhead wasn't fond of the platinum blonde, but she kept it professional enough that the sessions stayed productive. In the end I managed to bring both their grades up.
My time at the Baxter Building was consistently interesting. I mostly assisted Reed or Sue with one of their ongoing projects — offering a fresh perspective on calculations, helping troubleshoot problems. I was effectively a freelance consultant with the added benefit of my own lab and a small stipend.
And my first real invention? I'm actually quite proud of it.
Ben Grimm inspired it. He was trying to read the latest issue of Sports Illustrated, but his enormous hands kept bending the pages, and eventually he tore right through it in frustration. I felt genuinely bad watching him. There was so much about his situation that would have broken anyone, yet he kept going — and for that I was proud to call him my friend.
But maybe there was something small I could do to help.
I got to work and invented the SA — the Scan and Adapt.
It wasn't a groundbreaking scientific feat. The concept was actually straightforward. I made an elastic frame lined with high-density image projectors that could generate a sheet of light functioning like a display screen — a pseudo-hologram, contained entirely within the frame itself, but exactly what I needed.
I mounted two small cameras on the back of the frame and wrote a simple program to run the system. When it was finished, I brought it to Ben.
It was Thursday evening and the FF had gathered around the dining table for dinner. If you guessed pizza, you'd be right.
"We really should start cooking our own food," Sue said, working through a slice.
"Great idea, sis — small problem: none of us actually know how," Johnny pointed out with a shrug.
"Maybe we should hire someone?" Reed suggested. "Do we have the budget for that, Sue?"
"Barely. We're stretched thin as it is," she sighed. "If we don't produce something marketable soon, we may need to start cutting back."
"Are you going to let the kid go?" Ben asked, lifting a slice with a wrench — because of course he did.
"I hope not. But it might come to that," Sue admitted.
"Where is Peter, anyway?" Johnny asked. "Haven't seen him all day."
"Working on something personal," Reed said. "He didn't say what. I hope he isn't doing anything reckless in there."
"Hey, guys! Glad everyone's here!" I called out, charging into the den with a grin on my face.
"Hey, Peter! Want a slice?" Johnny offered.
"Pizza? Again? Seriously, you should really hire a cook — this much refined carbohydrate isn't doing any of you any favours," I said. I loved pizza as much as the next person, but there was a point of diminishing returns.
"Agreed," Sue said dryly. "Anyway, where were you? Reed said you were working on something?"
"I was!" I held up a small black frame the size of my palm. "Ta-da!"
Johnny raised an eyebrow. "What does it do?"
"Watch." I stepped into the living room, grabbed a copy of TIME magazine from the coffee table, and set it on the dining table. I stretched the frame out to three times its original size, placed it over the magazine, and said, "Scan."
The frame lit up as a blue display bloomed inside it. Slowly, a crisp image of the magazine's cover filled the screen. I held it up and grinned. "Ta-da."
Reed raised an amused eyebrow. "And the purpose is...?"
I sighed. "The frame expands to the size of a whiteboard or collapses to fit in a coat pocket. It scans documents and stores them digitally — to your phone, a memory card, whatever you want. It can also do a quick-scan, meaning you only need to flash a page in front of it for a fraction of a second. Here."
I had Sue hold the frame steady while I flipped through the magazine page by page. In under a minute I'd scanned all hundred-odd pages.
"Save scanned pages as TIMES issue October 2011," I said. A small tick mark appeared on the display. All the images compiled themselves into a digital edition that appeared neatly in the device's library.
"So... you made a more advanced Kindle?" Johnny asked, unimpressed.
"No," I said flatly. "I made a device that can compile and scan any physical document in seconds and reconstruct it as a fully navigable digital copy. Comparing those two things is like comparing you to a birthday candle."
"Alright, alright — no need to get defensive," Johnny said, hands up.
"There's also another purpose," I added quietly, and I handed the enlarged frame to Ben. "You don't have to worry about tearing books anymore. It's nearly indestructible, and if something does happen to it, all the stored data transfers to a replacement unit instantly."
The room went very still as they understood what I was saying.
"You did this for me, kid?" Ben asked, his voice rough.
"Yeah," I said. "I figured your life's hard enough without losing things you enjoy. It's not much, but—"
"Oh, shut it, kid," Ben said, and then he wrapped me in a careful hug. For a man made of stone, he was remarkably gentle when he chose to be. "Thanks. Really. I owe you one."
"Peter, this is extraordinary," Reed said quietly. "I didn't even... I never stopped to think about what Ben goes through."
I shrugged. "You have your own problems. You might not look different the way Ben does, but you've all got something you carry."
"Alright, when exactly did the fifteen-year-old become the most mature person in this building?" Sue asked, laughing softly.
"Maybe he always was," Reed said. He stood up and pulled me into a hug as well. "You're a good kid, Peter."
"Thanks, Stretch," I smiled, borrowing Ben's nickname for him.
"This really is remarkable," Ben said, swiping the screen to turn the pages of the digital magazine. "Look at that."
"We could probably patent it and approach Amazon about manufacturing rights," Sue said, her business mind already turning. "We'd have to build in some anti-piracy safeguards — maybe a system that restricts the exchange of scanned data. It won't stop everything, but it would be enough to deter widespread complaints."
"Think there's money in this?" Johnny asked.
"Absolutely," Susan said with a grin. "Congratulations, Peter. You just saved your job."
"Wait, what?!" I yelped. "What do you mean I just saved my job?!"
"They were thinking about letting you go," Ben said, chuckling.
"Giant rock man, could you repeat that?"
"We weren't planning to fire you — just considering it," Sue said. "Relax. I said you saved yourself, didn't I?"
I let out a long breath. That had been an unexpectedly close call.
Sue took the SA to her patent lawyers and got the process moving. I was genuinely excited to have a patent to my name — and the prospect of a share in the royalties wasn't bad either.
Sunday arrived too soon. I slept in late — I'd been out all night fighting crime, after all. When I finally dragged myself downstairs, I found Ben sitting in front of the television watching the morning news. I was about to wander past him to the kitchen when the headline stopped me cold:
STARK EXPO TO OPEN TO THE PUBLIC THIS FRIDAY!
I stood there for a moment, staring at the screen.
Today was the 30th of October. November was coming, and with it — the events of Iron Man 2. I knew what was going to happen. I knew exactly what was coming. And I knew I had to be ready for it.
I had a plan for Justin Hammer. I just needed to make sure it worked.