Chapter Text
"So, what does the Heisenberg uncertainty principle state?" Mrs. Daphne Boomer asked her AP Chemistry class. "Anyone? People, you have an exam in a week. Let's try and catch up! Robert! You have an idea?"
Bored high school senior Robert Quinn sat back in his chair. "Nope. Sorry."
Mrs. Boomer sighed. "Okay, how 'bout you, Amelia?"
Junior and massive goth girl Amelia Hopkins thought for two seconds before responding, "No clue."
Mrs. Boomer continued to look around. "Paul?"
Senior Paul Patterson shrugged. "Beats me"
Mrs. Boomer sighed. "People, I'm serious about this exam. It's ninety points! And I want to make sure you're all best prepared."
Looking to a familiar fifteen-year-old freshman with combed brown hair and thick glasses, Mrs. Boomer called out, "Peter?"
Looking up from his Honors Geometry homework, Peter Parker eyed his teacher in confusion. "Yeah?"
A few students chuckled, while Mrs. Boomer repeated, "What does the Heisenberg uncertainty principle state?"
Peter sat up. "Oh! It's that the position and velocity of an object can't be measured both exactly at the same time."
Mrs. Boomer smiled in relief. "Great! Anyway-"
The school bell started ringing, prompting the young teacher to look at the clock. "Crap, 3:25. Alright, everyone, only homework is pages 235-240 in the textbook, and to study for the exam!"
The students started packing their things, leaving pretty quickly. As Peter started packing his backpack, he made eye contact with his teacher, who mouthed thank you. Peter nodded in response and finished packing his things, walking out of the classroom. Making his way through the crowded halls of Midtown Science High School, Peter put his earbuds on and avoided direct eye contact with anyone. His phone started ringing, prompting Peter to pick up.
"Hey, Michaelangelo! How'd school go today?" the familiar voice of his Uncle Ben asked.
"Fine," Peter responded. "Just typical boring classes. Nothing new."
"I gotcha. Just calling to let you know that I know you're planning on studying in the school library, but your aunt's cooking up her famous surprise lasagna. I know you're gonna want to get your hands on that as soon as possible, so you should probably be home by 6:30."
Peter's eyes widened in excitement. "Seriously? Nice! See you then."
"Later, Pete."
Peter hung up the phone and walked over to his locker, opening it. He took out his jacket, only for a football to hit him in the side of his head. Unsurprised, Peter turned to see Bigfoot in the form of a human, smirking.
"Sorry, Parker," Flash Thompson chuckled, walking over and bopping Peter in the back of his head.
Peter sighed. "All good, Flash."
"Anyway, the Halloween football game is this Friday. You better get my good side for the paper. If not, there'll be trouble," Flash declared.
"Uhh, yeah, I quit the school paper. And I'm not going to the game," Peter revealed.
"Why, you gonna be too busy trick-or-treating to have a social life?"
Peter smirked. "No, I quit because I was too busy wondering how you managed to make us lose to Hamilton last weekend."
Peter found himself being pinned to his locker, with a couple students watching nearby.
"So, Parker. You've grown a pair? Better take back what you said or I'm gonna beat your ass," Flash threatened.
"Yo-you know. It's still a wonder how you're even academically eligible."
Peter regretted that quickly as Flash's fist met his stomach, knocking him down.
"Stay down, Parker!" Flash yelled.
"Flash!"
Peter turned to see Liz Allan running over. Flash froze at the sight of his girlfriend.
"Seriously? Again?" Liz sighed. "Flash."
"Dude thinks he's got a smart mouth. Should've shoved the little dumbass in that locker," Flash remarked.
"You haven't done that since the seventh grade," Peter sighed.
"Let's go. Before you act like an idiot again. Sorry, Pete," Liz groaned, holding out her hand.
Peter took Liz's hand, letting her help him up. "All good."
“Watch your ass next time, Parker. And for the record, Hamilton beat us 'cause Kong screwed up his throw. C'mon, babe," Flash said, taking Liz's arm, walking away.
Walking into his house, Peter called out, "I'm home! What's for dinner? Lasagna?!"
In the kitchen, Peter's Aunt May rolled her eyes. "Ben!"
Uncle Ben came down. "What? I knew he'd get excited."
"Well, it's called my surprise lasagna for a reason," Aunt May responded, pulling the warm and steaming lasagna out of the oven. "You both have loved it for centuries."
"Wait, I thought you guys were only ninety! Man, are you old," Peter joked.
Uncle Ben laughed. "That was one of your better ones, Pete."
"Say that again, smarty pants, and you'll be eating your food outside," Aunt May replied, setting the lasagna on the table.
Peter cut himself a piece. "I wouldn't dream of it."
Uncle Ben sat down and cut a piece for himself, sprinkling parmesan cheese on it. "So, Pete. Third month in high school, and you're not having a problem so far. Impressive."
Aunt May smiled as she sat down. "And unsurprising."
"Oh, thanks, but it's no big deal! Besides, it's not like it's completely perfect," Peter said.
"Flash Thompson?" Uncle Ben guessed. "What was it this time?"
"Threw some sarcasm his way. Got a fist to the stomach in return."
Aunt May put her hand to her forehead. "I swear, we've reported that kid five times in the past six years."
Peter shrugged. "I've gotten used to it. I hate the guy, but what else can I do?"
"At least you're standing up for yourself," Uncle Ben acknowledged. "Soon, that punk's gonna know you're not one to mess with."
Peter laughed while Aunt May snorted a little.
"Sorry, Pete," Aunt May quickly apologized.
"No, you're fine," Peter insisted. "I just wonder what goes on in that dude's head. Entitled asshole."
"Language, dear," Aunt May said. "And who knows what's going on with that boy."
"Sorry to change the subject, but isn't that field trip to Oscorp Industries tomorrow?" Uncle Ben asked.
"Yep! I'm all prepared and everything. I've been reading a lot about Oscorp and Norman Osborn. Tomorrow will literally be perfect for me," Peter excitedly responded, scarfing down his lasagna. "It's the most advanced chemical manufacturing company in New York, and what Osborn's doing to enhance the human race is just insane."
"Ah, science. Your father always loved it," Uncle Ben reminisced.
Peter smiled. "Like you haven't said that two-thousand times already."
"Well, I'll admit that I myself was quite a nerd in high school. Like your dad, but nowhere near his level."
"That why you became an engineer?" Peter asked.
"Civil engineering," Uncle Ben corrected. "Urbana-Champaign. Class of 1986."
Peter's eyes filled with confusion. "How am I learning all of this just now?"
Uncle Ben took a drink of water. "You never asked. Besides, I figured your inner genius would've figured it all out."
"Well, in that case, can we learn more about Aunt May's dark and twisted history?" Peter suggested.
"I suggest you change the subject before you sleep in the doghouse tonight," Aunt May casually said.
Peter exchanged a humorous look with his uncle. "We don't have a dog."
Aunt May smiled to herself. "So, Peter, anything going on with school?"
"Well, I showed up to a meeting of biology club, but it wasn't really for me. Also, I quit the school paper."
"Why? You've always loved photography!" Uncle Ben pointed out.
"Got repetitive after a while. Too many rules," Peter admitted.
Aunt May sighed. "That great Nikon I got you for Christmas last year better not go to waste."
"I'm sure I could find some other use for it."
”Single file, everyone! And remember, no goofing around!" Mr. Raymond Warren warned as he stood outside the school bus, watching a section of the freshman class get out. "Any of you screw anything up, you're getting a date with detention this weekend."
"If we stay silent the entire trip, is that extra credit for bio?" Flash asked, getting off the bus.
"Nice try, Mr. Thompson. I hope you've started studying for the exam next week. Especially if you want to keep throwing a football," Mr. Warren chuckled, raising an eye at the jock.
A couple students started laughing, while Flash merely shrugged in response. Excited, Peter got off the bus to look at the Oscorp Tower in awe. At that point, a scientist exited the building.
"Good afternoon, Midtown! I'm Mendel Stromm, a genetic engineering scientist for Oscorp, and well, your tour guide for today. Welcome to Oscorp Industries, the leading and most advanced chemical manufacturing corporation in New York City," the scientist greeted.
"Thank you, Dr. Stromm," Mr. Warren said. "You told me this morning that Osborn wasn't going to be able to make it to today's trip, unfortunately."
"Norman had an urgent business meeting to run to. Kids, you probably know him as the founder and CEO of Oscorp. Norman Osborn graduated from Columbia University in 1978, and since founding Oscorp Industries with Otto Octavius in 1984, Oscorp has operated 122 major manufacturing and 24 research and development facilities worldwide. Oscorp's prime goal has always been to genetically enhance the human race to their highest capabilities to perform beyond expectations and prepare for any dangerous situations in the future," Mendel explained.
A well-dressed teen yawned. "So… in other words, steroids?"
The class burst out laughing, while Mr. Warren rolled his eyes.
"Ah, the mouth of Norman Osborn's son. Harry Osborn, please say hi," Mendel requested.
Harry shortly held his hand up. "S'up, people? I already go to school with you guys, so-"
"Moving on," Mendel interjected. "Let's go inside and show you all where the magic happens."
Mendel led Mr. Warren and the teenagers into the tower, where Peter instantly wanted to squeal. The lobby alone exhibited advanced technology and prototypes, ranging from holograms to advanced prosthetic designs. Scientists and staff surrounded the place, moving around.
"Here's the main lobby, but this isn't even anywhere near the best part. Allow me to take you all to the genetic testing room," Mendel continued.
Peter's stomach turned with massive excitement as he and his peers were led to a locked door. Mendel unlocked the door with his key card, and the class was led into the genetic testing room. The room was not only filled with bioengineering technology and biomedical samples, but there were full holograms and display screens depicting the various experiments involving a certain enhancer serum. What particularly caught Peter's attention was a glass tanked filled with a few spiders. Peter walked over to take a closer look, as did Liz and a few other students.
"The room pretty much speaks for itself. In pursuing his goal to genetically enhance the human race, Norman has authorized several tests and experiments on various species to perfect the enhancer drug, or as we like to call it, OZ. Kind of like what they did in World War II. The serum is showing tremendous progress, and Oscorp is currently in talks for a military contract. Our most successful experiment is also our most recent, as we mutated sixteen spiders with the OZ, creating a genetically modified breed of them," Mendel said.
"There's only fifteen," Liz observed.
A confused look spread across Mendel's face as he walked over to the tank. "Huh? That's odd. Maybe Otto took it away for further study."
"Keep an eye out for it in case, guys," Mr. Warren instructed.
"Thank you, Mr. Warren," Mendel responded as he turned around. "Alright, on to the-"
"Ow!" Peter hissed as a spider bit his hand, before jumping off.
Mr. Warren turned to Peter. "Mr. Parker, are you alright?"
"Y-yeah," Peter lied, turning around to see the spider crawling away. "Actually, on second thought, I have a headache."
Peter clenched his head, which really was starting to hurt. Harry turned to him, asking, "You all good?"
"Not really," Peter groaned.
"Mr. Osborn, do you want to help Peter get some air outside?" Mr. Warren asked. "You have your own key card to get both of you back in later."
"Sure, sir," Harry agreed as he grabbed Peter's shoulder. "Come with me, buddy."
Peter put his arm around Harry as the latter helped him outside, which proved to be a challenge. Once they were out of the building, Peter stumbled over to a bench.
"Woah, woah, what happened?" Harry asked, sitting next to Peter.
Embarrassed, Peter lied. "Uhh, n-not sure. I was literally just minding my own business, and then, it's like my head is burning. Then, my chest felt like it was gonna explode, a-and-"
Covering his mouth, Peter ran over to the trash can and puked.
"Shit," Harry sighed. "If you want, I can go tell Mr. Warren to call you a ride back to school. Nurse will definitely send you home for the day."
"No, no, I'm good!" Peter quickly exclaimed. "Thanks, but I'm good."
"Is 'good' the keyword for wanting to go back inside and fanboy over the science stuff?"
"Pretty much."
"I get you. I've never really been into that stuff, but it's cool that you're so into it."
Peter sat back on the bench. "Why else would I be the class nerd?"
"Hey, no self-demeaning allowed," Harry warned. "Believe me, if I had your brain, my dad wouldn't be on my ass as much."
"Oh, uh, thanks! I've actually always wanted to meet your dad and Dr. Octavius," Peter admitted. "What your dad's trying to do with the human race is amazing. And as for Octavius, his work on-"
"I'm gonna stop you right there," Harry interrupted. "Believe me when I say my dad's the biggest hardass you'll ever meet."
"Well, damn."
"Yep."
Peter got up. "I think I'm ready to go back in now."
"You sure? You legit just puked."
"I'm feeling better. Honest."
Harry got up. "Alright. Before we do, though, I assume this is the awkward part where we officially introduce each other. I'm Harry Osborn, as Mendel stressed."
“Thanks, Har.”
"May, Ben, I'm home!" Peter called as he walked into the house.
Uncle Ben was on his laptop. "Hey, sport, how was the field trip? Your aunt's out getting groceries."
"Oh, it was pretty cool! Yeah, they had a lot of interesting bio things, some cool stuff involving the human race, steroids or something," Peter blurted out.
Uncle Ben had a confused look on. "Huh?"
"You kn-know, I'm gonna go upstairs to take a nap. I'm tired!" Peter yawned as he went upstairs.
"You okay, Peter?"
"Never better!"
Peter walked into his bedroom, closing the door. Dropping his backpack and glasses on the floor, Peter fell on his bed. He looked at the red mark on his hand, groaning.
"Freakin' spider," Peter sighed as he held on to his pillow.
As Peter started to get drowsier, his vision started to fade. Soon, everything turned black.
"Peter, get up!"
Peter woke up, quickly hitting his alarm clock, smashing it to pieces.
"Shit!" Peter exclaimed, looking at the fragments and taking out his phone to check the time, which was 8:02. "I was asleep for fourteen hours?!"
"Peter!" Aunt May called out.
"Yeah, I'll be down soon, Aunt May!" Peter yelled as he got up.
Peter picked up his glasses and put them on, only for his vision to turn blurry.
"Huh?"
Peter took them off, and realized that his vision was legitimately perfect.
"Strange," Peter muttered as he took off his shirt to change. "Wh-what the?"
Looking at his mirror, Peter saw that his former scrawny exterior was now a muscular physique that rivalled some of the best jocks at Midtown. A knocking was then heard at the door.
"Peter! Get down before May throws out your blueberry pancakes!" Uncle Ben humorously warned from outside the door.
"Be there soon," Peter replied, flexing in front of the mirror. "Where the hell did this come from?"
After a minute of more self-admiration, Peter changed his clothes and threw on his backpack. Coming down quickly, Peter got to the kitchen and started devouring his pancakes instantly, much to his uncle's amusement.
"Well, someone's hungry," Uncle Ben observed. "Wait, how did you get so… jacked?"
Peter finished his first two pancakes. "Not sure, but I'm feeling good!"
Aunt May's mouth dropped as she noticed Peter's new physique. "Pete, when did you start working out? How'd you get like that overnight? And why aren't you wearing your glasses?"
"Honestly, I feel more than good. I'm great!" Peter excitedly replied, finishing his pancakes and washing it all down with a glass of orange juice. "I'm heading to school."
Peter got up and kissed his bemused aunt on the cheek, walking out of the house.
"I can't tell whether to be extremely excited or extremely concerned," Uncle Ben commented. "I told you he was acting weird when he got home yesterday."
"And I wanted to let him sleep, and look how that turned out," Aunt May started. "Let's think about it. His hyperactivity and confusion, his new abs, you don't think-"
"No, I doubt he's doing drugs or even taking steroids," Uncle Ben insisted. "We raised him to be much better than that. And I trust our boy."
"But can you blame me for being skeptical?"
"Not at all. But deep down, I think we both know Peter wouldn't do something like that."
In a packed subway train, Peter was sitting down, skimming through his phone. Specifically, he was reading more about Oscorp and their work on enhancing the human race with OZ. Years of hard work, several failed experiments, a lot of money, and genetically modified spiders?
Peter recalled Mendel's words in his head. Our most successful experiment is also our most recent, as we mutated sixteen spiders with the OZ, creating a genetically modified breed of them.
"Sick," Peter said to himself as his stop came.
Peter got up and left the train, walking out of the subway station, and onto the street leading up to school. Once he got to the building, something started ringing in Peter's head. It was alerting him… specifically to a basketball accidentally thrown his way.
"Woah!" Peter yelled as he quickly grabbed the basketball with one hand.
"Dude, sick catch!" a student praised, running over.
"Oh, uh, thanks!" Peter said, handing the student the ball back.
It took a few seconds, but the student managed to pry the ball off of Peter's sticky hand.
"You alright?" the student asked.
"Yeah."
The student took the ball and ran back to the basketball court with his friends. At that point, the five-minute warning bell started going off, prompting most of the students to head inside. Overwhelmed, Peter sat on one of the tables to think. First, his broken alarm clock. Then, his new jacked physique. Now, he could sense things coming?
"Goddamn it!" Peter swore as he realized that his fourteen hour nap had prevented him from finishing his homework.
In frustration, he slammed his fist on the table, breaking off a part of it. His eyes widening, Peter got up, while a few students watched in shock. Shaking his head, Peter ran away from the school. He ran the fastest he ever had, making it to a nearby alley in less than two minutes.
"Strength, reflexes, and now, speed?" Peter repeated as he typed that on the notes on his phone.
Once he was done typing, Peter looked up at the wall. He then proceeded to look at his hand, as microscopic barbs started forming on it. Slowly, Peter put his hand on the wall. He put his other one on, and kept moving up. He continued climbing, and once he got to the top, he looked down in utter shock. Peter crawled onto the roof, and grabbed a steel vent pipe, crushing it easily. He looked around, before deciding to celebrate.
"WOOOOO HOOOOOO!"
Peter ran and jumped off the building, landing on another one. Screaming in joy, Peter ran and jumped onto another building. He then jumped onto another one, doing a forward roll this time. He jumped and landed on the next building with more force, plunging his fist into the roof, cracking it. Looking down at Queens from the building, Peter sat from the edge of the roof.
"This is something else."
The next day, before school started, Peter was on his laptop in the school library. Watching and admiring parkour videos on YouTube, Peter smirked.
"What's up, man?"
Peter turned around, seeing Harry walking over. "Oh. Hey, Harry."
"What are you up to?"
"Well, I was watching parkour, but I forgot about that history quiz I have later," Peter quickly explained.
Harry chuckled and sat next to Peter. "Like you have to worry about that. How are you feeling, by the way?"
"Better, thanks. Much better, honestly."
"It still makes me wonder what happened to you in there that made you so sick," Harry wondered. "Mendel was wondering about it yesterday. I just told him a kid got sick, simple as that."
"You're not wrong.”
Harry took out his algebra textbook. "Speaking of sick, I'm literally gonna puke. Algebra can kiss my ass."
"What level are you in?" Peter asked.
"Honors. I don't know what I was thinking, other than appeasing my dad."
"Hey, the fact that you got in that level in the first place just shows how smart you are. Be proud,”Peter encouraged.
"Thanks. I really have to ask, but is there a single class you struggle in?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.
"I mean, English can get really boring at times. Don't even get me started on home ec-"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Home ec?"
"My aunt encouraged it. Thought it'd be a new experience."
"Ah."
"You have a favorite class?" Peter asked.
"The only one I even give a shit about is French," Harry said. "As for least favorite, bio's kicking my ass at the moment. And I already mentioned how much I hate math."
"No, you didn't," Peter sarcastically responded.
"Well, it gets worse," Harry admitted. "My algebra teacher literally hates me."
"I'm sure that's not true."
"No, literally. He actually had my dad as a student back in the 70s, and they hated each other."
Peter cringed. "Seriously?"
"Yep. I swear, he gives me the evil eye every time we make eye contact. He also has an attitude whenever I ask him a question."
"Sounds rough."
"Oh, it sucks."
The five-minute warning bell rang, and a majority of the students in the library started packing their things to head to class.
"What's your first class?" Harry asked.
Peter started packing his laptop. "Spanish. What about you?"
"English, but I had my dad call me out. I really need that time to study for my algebra test second period," Harry sighed.
"Look, if you ever need help on algebra or anything, just hit me up," Peter offered.
"I might take you up on that. What math are you in?"
Peter put his backpack on. "Honors geometry."
"Shocker."
"I mean, it's nothing special. It's my last class of the day, yet I still look forward to it."
"Why?"
Peter smiled. "Two words."
"Gwen Stacy?" Mr. Grant Johnson called to the girl raising her hand.
"The number of diagonals is 54, and the sum of the interior angles is 1854."
"Shocker, it's correct!" Mr. Johnson jokingly confirmed, writing the answer on the board.
Peter continuously stared at Gwen Stacy from across the other room. Her long wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, thick orange glasses, it was all beautiful.
"Peter?"
Peter looked up at Mr. Johnson. "Yeah?"
"Can you find the x of this equation?"
"Yeah, it'd be 87.5," Peter quickly answered.
"Right as always, Peter," Mr. Johnson commented, writing the answer on the board.
Peter looked at Gwen, and the two actually made brief eye contact before Gwen's eyes turned away. Peter turned his eyes back to his notes, and Gwen smiled a little to herself.
"Alright, class, now what would 17.-"
The bell started ringing, and everyone started packing their things.
"Guess I lost track of time. Remember, the homework is pages 114-117 in the textbook, and to study for the exam next week!" Mr. Johnson said before going back to his desk.
Peter was among the first to leave the classroom, walking over to the lockers, pretending to be on his phone. Once Gwen walked out the door, Peter watched her walk away. He sighed in sadness, and proceeded to pull up nstagram page, which he hadn't followed yet. As usual, he started stalking it.
"Alright, people. You all have a choice of either basketball, soccer, or just exercising and doing your own thing. One, two, three, go!" Coach Andre Wilson yelled in gym class that day, quickly clapping his hands.
Peter went over to join the students playing basketball, wanting to test his skills further.
"Great, someone call an ambulance!" Flash remarked. "This dude's gonna get pummeled in three minutes."
Flash's best friend Kenny Kong laughed. "Yeah, Parker, go and do some exercise with the ladies!"
Peter mockingly put on a conflicted face for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Nah, I'm staying here."
Flash shrugged. "Your funeral, dork."
The teams were made, with Peter unsurprisingly being on the opposing one as Flash and Kong. The game started, and Peter ran over and easily grabbed the ball. In two seconds, he leaped with grace and threw the ball in the net, instantly shocking everyone.
"Holy shit, nice!" one of Peter's teammates exclaimed, high fiving him.
"Dude, what's he on?" Kong asked a shocked Flash.
Peter proceeded to throw another ball in the basket, and it became an ongoing pattern of him easily taking the ball and making baskets. His sticky hand certainly came in handy.
"Sorry, bro!" Peter apologized as he lept over someone from the opposing team, taking the ball from him in the process.
He made another basket, causing his team to cheer. Kong managed to run and grab the ball, dribbling it towards the other basket. Peter easily caught up, getting in front of him.
"Don't they call you King Kong? Man, live up to your name!" Peter trolled as he grabbed the ball from Kong.
Peter ran with the ball over to the other basket, where Flash tried to ambush him. Flash managed to grab the ball, but struggled to pry it off of Peter's sticky hand. Smacking Flash aside with his shoulder, Peter ran and threw the ball in.
"Shit!" Flash yelled as he hit the ground.
"Oh, dude! Ouch!" Kong commented, running over.
Coach Wilson ran over. "Thompson! You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Flash muttered as Kong helped him up. "It was Parker's fault, though."
Peter held up his hands. "Total accident."
"Say, Parker, it looks like you've been really holding out on us! I haven't seen anyone play like that in years!" Coach Wilson complimented.
"Oh, thanks, coach!" Peter replied, intentionally stretching.
"Yo, coach!" Rand Robertson called out, walking over with crutches and a cast on his leg. "I think we've found my replacement for the Halloween game!
"You read my mind!" Coach Wilson exclaimed. "How 'bout it, Peter? I know it's a bit last minute, but you were amazing! We're going against Lincoln on Friday, and they're not exactly known to be easy. As you can see, Rand got a pretty nasty injury, and we could really use another linebacker."
"Yeah, that was awesome, Pete!" Liz praised as she walked over with her best friend, fellow cheerleader, and Rand's girlfriend Sally Avril.
"Whoa, whoa, football is not the same as basketball!" Flash protested. "It was probably just dumb luck or some shit like that!"
"But you gotta admit his reflexes and throws are impressive. His speed alone is a huge advantage. Also, I'll be the first to say it, but when'd you get so jacked?" Kong observed.
"Yeah, when did you start working out, Parker?" Coach Wilson asked, with Liz, Sally, and Rand looking shocked as well. Flash rolled his eyes.
"Honestly, Pete, you really should do sports more!" Sally suggested.
Peter chuckled as he rubbed his head. "Maybe I will!"
Coach Wilson turned to Peter. "So it's settled? You'll take Rand's place for the game?"
Peter looked at Liz, Rand, and Sally's hopeful looks. He turned to see Flash's annoyed expression, as well as Kong's visible interest.
"Sure. Why not?"
"Awesome! Come to practice after school and show us what else you got!" Coach Wilson instructed before walking away.
Flash groaned and walked away, while Kong put his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Welcome to the team, brother!"
Peter had an amused expression on his face. "Sorry, weren't you just shitting on me about ten minutes ago?"
"Well, that was before I realized you could help us beat Lincoln's ass!" Kong justified.
"Make me proud, brother," Rand requested, holding out his fist.
Peter returned the fist bump. "Will do!"
"This place never gets old," Peter admitted with a mouthful of chicken fried rice.
Uncle Ben had taken Peter and Aunt May to the most popular Chinese restaurant in downtown Queens. Empire Tianlong definitely had a reputation, if Yelp's 4.8 star rating wasn't already an indicator of that.
"I swear, we've been taking you here since you were five," Aunt May said. "I still remember you falling in love with the egg rolls even then."
"Loved them then and love them now," Peter declared, grabbing an egg roll. "Don't get me started on how crazy Uncle Ben gets over the mongolian beef."
"Well, you can't blame me," Uncle Ben responded. "Pass me the sweet-and-sour chicken, please."
Peter complied. "So, I have big news for both of you."
"You got kicked out of the honor roll for drugs?" Uncle Ben joked.
Aunt May laughed, and Peter chuckled. "Not yet, still working on that! But this Friday, I'm gonna be playing for the football team!"
Aunt May's jaw dropped while Uncle Ben had an amused expression on his face.
"You both heard that correctly."
"Don't take this the wrong way, but football?" Uncle Ben asked.
"Yeah! Coach saw me in class today and he wants me to take over for some injured kid on the team!"
"Whoa, whoa, slow down, buddy," Uncle Ben started.
"After school, I went to practice. After only a couple minutes, they took me in."
"Well, I don't know what to say!" Aunt May exclaimed. "Except 'wow.'"
"Isn't this gonna be great? For once, I actually get to impress people! Nerdy loser Peter Parker becomes the football savior!" Peter excitedly blurted out. "I could probably show Flash up, get the girls from him."
"Pete, don't get me wrong, I'm excited. But, are you really doing this just to impress the cheerleaders and look like an athlete?" Aunt May asked.
"I mean, of course. But, the new experience would also be cool. All I've been doing at these games is taking pictures for the school paper and interviewing some of the players and the coach. I'll never forget how braggy Flash got in one edition," Peter sighed.
"That's a fair point. Just make sure not to drown in any huge attention you gain," Aunt May warned.
"I got to agree. We'll be there at the game, Peter," Uncle Ben promised. "Just make sure not to lose sight of who you actually are."
"Will do."
"You said the game is this Friday? That's Halloween! Who's gonna stay home and pass out the candy?" Aunt May worried.
"Who says anyone has to?" Uncle Ben started. "All we have to do is leave a bag of candy outside and-"
"And the first few kids will practically take the whole bag," Aunt May interrupted. "Look, maybe one of us can-"
"Hell no, you're both gonna be there. It's my football debut! Please!" Peter pleaded.
Aunt May sighed. "Fine."
At that point, owner Richard Zhao walked over, smiling at the three. "If it isn't my favorite customers! How are you guys doing?"
"We're great, Richard! Thanks for asking," Uncle Ben responded with a smile.
"Yeah, this food always gets better and better," Aunt May admitted.
"Oh, thank you so much! I'm in my seventies and it's great to know I still have it!" Richard exclaimed. "Peter, you've gotten much bigger! How's high school?"
"It's alright! Nothing special," Peter said.
"I felt the same way when I was your age. But believe me, it gets far more exciting later on. I still remember serving your aunt and uncle when they were in high school," Richard reminisced.
Peter shot a shocked look at his aunt and uncle. "I never knew you guys came here for this long."
"Indeed, they have! Anyway, I'm gonna let you folks enjoy your meal! Thanks again for coming!"
"Alright, thank you!" Uncle Ben thanked with a wave.
"What he said!" Aunt May followed.
"Okay, you guys have always either made excuses or refused to say anything whenever I ask about your past or how you met," Peter pointed out. "Can I finally hear the story?"
"Peter-" Aunt May started.
"Please! If you don't tell me, I'm not gonna stop bugging you guys about it!"
"At this point, why not?" Uncle Ben agreed. "As you know, I was quite a nerd in high school. I still had a good amount of friends, and luckily, I didn't get picked on that much. I remember knocking some punk's teeth out for telling me my Aerosmith shirt made me look like a dumbass. It's safe to say that freshman and sophomore year were quite boring."
"And?" Peter prodded.
"And junior year was when I started staring at May Reilly all the time. May, you want to interject and tell Pete your dark and twisted history?"
Aunt May chuckled. "Okay. I was a year above Ben, and I barely knew who he was. I used to be a huge bookworm, but senior year, I joined the cheer team and started smoking pot with them. All I did after that was hang out with the football team, skipping classes a lot. Midtown was much different back then, and all we did was challenge authority. Does Mr. Bromwell still teach there?"
"Yeah. History, right?" Peter asked.
"Yep. If you want, ask him about the 1980 red pen incident. That was all my fault. Anyways, I grew interested in this one guy who was involved in criminal activities, specifically robbery and assault. I didn't care, and I started seeing him. Stupid May didn't realize that the guy was a bad influence, and eventually, he ended up accidentally killing someone at an armed robbery. Ben witnessed the whole thing happen, and ran over to my house to warn me."
Aunt May stopped before sniffling a little, wiping away a tear.
"May, are you okay? Do you need to stop?" Peter asked in concern.
"No, it's alright. Anyway, the guy tried breaking in, and Ben ran outside and took him out. He held me until the cops arrived, and spent the night. Since then, we've stuck together, as you can clearly see," Aunt May explained. "It all seems like it was yesterday."
"Gee, Uncle Ben. Never knew you could kick ass," Peter joked. "Jokes aside, this is all really touching to hear. Interesting as well."
"Thank you. And if you ever worry about a potential long distance relationship, don't. You already know that Ben went to UIUC, but I stayed in New York to study marketing at Hofstra," Aunt May continued. "We got through it, even if there were a few bumps in the road every now and then. Then again, when are there not? Look where we are today! We're raising you, we're making good money, and-"
"Uhh, yeah, there's something I have to talk to you guys about," Uncle Ben interjected. "You're both probably wondering why I brought you here."
"To have amazing Chinese food?" Peter guessed.
"Well… yes. But, I figured it'd be easier for you both to take the news when you have fried rice and chow mein noodles stuffed in your mouths."
Concern started going through Aunt May's eyes. "Ben, what's going on?"
"I… I… our manager told us the other day that there's been a lot of budget cuts and a significant loss of business with the company. They couldn't afford to keep me and a dozen other guys on the payroll anymore."
Peter's jaw dropped while Aunt May covered her mouth in disbelief.
"I'm sorry, guys."
"Don't be, Ben. You were one of their best guys! Their loss," Aunt May assured.
"Agreed. That's a bunch of bullshit right there," Peter muttered.
Aunt May raised an eyebrow. "Language, Peter."
"It's fine, May. I'm upset about this as much as you guys are. But I promise we're gonna be fine," Uncle Ben swore. "I just need to find another job soon."
"Should I go back to work? It's been several years, but I think I still got it," Aunt May pondered.
"For now, no. I'm gonna look online more. There should be some good openings," Uncle Ben replied.
"I mean, I should try and get a job. I know I'm fifteen, but there's got to be a handful of stuff I can do," Peter suggested.
Uncle Ben shook his head. "Don't worry about it, sport. We're gonna be okay. Speaking of sports, you better not disappoint us at the game this Friday."
"Oh, I think I'll do okay."
"PETER! PETER! PETER!"
The bleachers were stacked with students and faculty, with the majority of them dressed in Halloween costumes. In the front row of the family section, Aunt May and Uncle Ben were cheering their nephew on, along with most of the crowd. The scoreboard currently displayed a score of 78 for Midtown in comparison to Lincoln's mere 9. In his green-and-gold uniform, Peter couldn't stop beaming as he ran with the football, charging to the opposite end zone. Four Lincoln players chased him to no avail.
"PETER! PETER! PETER! PETER! PETER!"
Peter jumped onto the end zone, landing on his stomach, as the crowd erupted, going absolutely wild.
"PETER PARKER SCORES HIS FOURTH TOUCHDOWN, WINNING THE GAME FOR MIDTOWN SCIENCE HIGH SCHOOL 84-9! GO MIDTOWN MUSTANGS!" the announcer excitedly yelled over his microphone.
Everyone was cheering and clapping, and the Midtown players started running over to tackle Peter, yelling and embracing him in joy.
"Holy shit, Parker! You did it!" Kong shouted in joy, lifting Peter up with his fellow players.
"Fucking killed it, dude!"
"Such a beast, Peter!"
"Hell yeah!"
"I'll admit, Parker. You really made us look good," Flash admitted. "Great job, dude."
"Thanks a lot, guys!" Peter yelled as he was carried off the field by the other players.
Rand came over with the cheerleaders. "You didn't disappoint me, bro! Amazing job out there!"
"Pete, you were amazing!" Liz exclaimed. "We're all going out for pizza after this, you want to come?"
"Hell yeah!" Peter called out, spotting his aunt and uncle proudly walking towards the football players. "Hey, guys, can you let me down quickly? My folks are here!"
The players happily complied, and Peter ran over to hug his aunt and uncle. "What'd you guys think?"
"What'd we think? Peter, your aunt kept hollering 'That's my nephew!' every time you made a touchdown!" Uncle Ben stressed. "You did amazing!"
"Seriously, Peter! You really blew us away!" Aunt May delightfully said. "We're so proud of you!"
Peter took his helmet off. "Thanks, guys! Means a lot! Look, the team wants to go out and get pizza. Is it cool if I go?"
Uncle Ben nodded. "Absolutely. Have fun, Peter."
"Don't do anything stupid!" Aunt May warned.
Peter laughed and waved, heading back to the football players and cheerleaders.
A half hour later, Peter, Flash, Liz, Rand, Kong, Sally, and a few other football players and cheerleaders were at a Pizza Hut, laughing and celebrating.
"Parker, I can't believe I'm saying this again, but I'm really impressed," Flash praised.
"Seriously? Thanks, dude," Peter chuckled, reaching for another slice of pizza. "Didn't know I had it in me."
"Dude, after gym class, that's when I knew you were holding out on us," Rand said. "Great job, dude."
"Yeah, seriously, you winning for us isn't something the school's gonna forget for a while," Kong promised, patting Peter on the back.
Liz held out her glass. "To Peter, everyone!"
Peter blushed while everyone else held out their glasses. Peter did so as well, and everyone except him chanted, "To Peter!"
"Thanks a lot, guys! I never could've guessed all of this would've happened," Peter stressed. "Someone's gotta pinch me."
The table laughed.
"You know, Pete, this actually just reminded me of when you asked me out in the eighth grade!" Sally said.
"Hoo hoo, Parker's trying to steal my girl!" Rand joked.
Everyone started laughing, while Peter blushed, chuckling to himself a little.
"Damn, Pete, you had guts," Liz admitted.
"Yeah, well, look at you now, Pete! You legit had the coolest turnaround," Sally laughed.
Peter put down his slice. "Oh, thanks!"
Flash looked over Peter's muscular physique. "Dude, you have to tell us what your workout routine is. You got ripped as hell."
"Where do you go, dude?" Kong asked.
Peter shrugged as a look of pride went through his eyes. "I just started eating well, including all the green vegetables. Worked out everyday, all that cardio and chest stuff."
"Well, if any of us did that everyday, I still doubt we'd even be able to take on Crusher Hogan," Flash hypothesized.
"Dude, did you see what he did to that guy's legs last week?" one of the other football players asked.
"Tell us unless you literally want to scar us for life," another football player responded.
"My older brother told me about him. Jesus, the guy's never even lost a match," one of the cheerleaders mentioned.
"Who-who's Crusher Hogan?" Peter asked.
"Oh, dude, he's the best underground cage fighter in New York! He's literally been fighting for over a decade! Barely anyone's ever gotten a hit on him!" Kong raved.
"Yeah, they're offering five thousand dollars to whoever can last even five minutes with him in the ring!" Flash exclaimed. "I've been there a couple times, and it's always the most brutal thing ever."
"Then what's the point of all that? No one's ever gonna beat him," Liz said.
Peter smirked as he sprinkled crushed peppers on his pizza, with an obvious idea flowing through his head.