black treacle - matt sturniolo

Chapter Five, What New Yorker hates ketchup?

To distract herself from Pandora's box that would be opened another day, Robyn finally read the yellow post-it stuck on her monitor in the same position as always, and it reminded her why she needed to stop reading them.

The locations they were taking her to were not worth seeing Spider-Man. First, Times Square? Then the Garbage bins? Now, some random alleyway? Again?!

"I swear if I get kidnapped," she grumbled, holding her cold finger to her chest in an attempt to warm them, "I'm gonna-"

"You're gonna what?" The hero leaned in with his hand cupping his ear, mocking her empty threat. "Speak up, I didn't hear the last part."

Robyn crossed her arms, no longer phased by his abrupt appearance. However, she tried to mask her smile; she'd rather die on that hill than admit he was rather charming at times.

"It's the second time you've been late. It's like you don't even want people to think you're a good guy."

"Once again, 'late' you say," although hidden behind a mask, it was obvious that he cocked an eyebrow, "were you here waiting for me? I'm touched."

Robyn ignored his question and confronted him with another, "I'm starting to think you're the one who's been writing me the notes because how else would you always know where I'd be?"

It was a bit too coincidental for them to keep meeting that way because whoever the writer needed to know Spider-Man's exact location for this to work the number of times that it did.

Maybe Spider-Man was writing her these notes. She entertained the idea for a bit before scrapping it. She was getting too imaginative again. Tone it down, Robyn.

"I have no clue what you're talking about, but I don't know. If you were me, wouldn't you check on the girl you constantly see randomly standing around in dangerous places?"

Robyn was forced to agree begrudgingly because the notes did send her to random locations. She regretted admitting that she'd followed some post-its as leads to find him because, once again, where were her safety skills?

She began getting ready to leave because, while trying to suppress her feelings about Matt, she'd also buried the idea of borrowing his camera, so it became a fruitless meeting.

Writing the article by itself wasn't possible because let's be realistic, nobody would believe a teenage girl without any photographic evidence.

To be fair, people would doubt the legitimacy of her photos anyways, so she might as well publish whatever she wants.

Peering over her shoulder, Robyn noticed that he'd still been lingering in the same position. "Sorry Spidey, I forgot to bring a camera today so you'll have to wait a bit longer for the next article."

She turned on her heel, spinning her body to face the direction she'd come from, but before she could exit the alleyway, he placed a hand on her shoulder, spinning her to face him.

"Did you hear about what happened in Flushing yesterday?" His voice almost felt laced with sincerity and concern.

"Why?" Robyn crossed her arms and smirked. "Do you want to brag about how the Amazing Spider-Man stopped it and saved locals from having to go to the next nearest 7-Eleven a couple of blocks away?"

"I'll put aside how you finally admitted I'm amazing, but I just worried. Come on, I'm walking you home."

He caught her off guard. Was he actually concerned? From what she read in the news, nobody was hurt and nothing was stolen because Spider-Man's presence had scared off the criminal.