Between the Lines of a Web

Queens' one and only

"Alright, let's do this one last time.

My name's Oscar Piastri.

I was bitten by a radioactive spider one year, three months, and... five days ago. Since then, I've been New York's one and only Spider-Man.

My life? Interesting, I guess.

My dad left when I was thirteen.

I've saved over a hundred people in less than a week.

I'm probably failing English.

And there's a 99% chance I'm late for class right now.
But I wouldn't trade being Spider-Man for a scholarship to MIT.

(That's a lie. Logan told me to say that.)

The truth is: no matter how many pulled muscles, black eyes, failed exams, or rejections—

I always get back up. Because the only thing standing between this city and what waits underneath it... is me.

I'm Spider-Man.

The only one. (Unfortunately.)"

—
The school bell rang out louder than the scream the poor woman let out last night as the train was about to hit her

(and no that wasn't an exaggeration).
About thirty minutes ago Oscar would have started counting down the minutes till the bell dismissed him, but with the lack of sleep he's had in the past few days and the perk of being the quiet smart kid with zero friends in his class, he ceased the opportunity to catch another
hour of sleep.

The last class of the day on Wednesday was physics, Oscar's favourite. See not being able to produce your own steady amount of web meant having to make it instead. Physics and chemistry went hand in hand with being Spider-Man, thankfully. He had always had a knack for science even before that spider in the university lab bit him on a field trip at the beginning of grade Ten.

What Oscar was doing in the professor's lab that day instead of with his class looking at the inside of a cow's heart was nobody's business but his own (Pure curiosity and idioticity).

Everyone stood as fast as they could shoving binders into backpacks twice their size, some with obnoxious stickers of- well himself. Professor Knox stood at the front of the class next to his chalk board yelling over the symphony of students anxious to get home.

"And don't forget we're doing the introductory to your midterm project tomorrow! Bring your brightest smiles-" His voice trailed off as he gave up.

Oscar liked Knox. He was an older man, maybe in his late 60s to older 70s, almost white hair and these glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose. He was also a gentle spoken man and being five foot three didn't help to get 30 grade elevens to listen to him for an hour and thirty minutes a
day.

Oscar left last, taking time to carefully pack his stuff away without his suit falling out of his bag.

Knox finished talking to one of his better students Richard (though nowhere near as smart as Oscar) and turned back to his board to finish working on one of his personal questions.

Oscar attempted to slip out as quietly as possible, saving the city couldn't wait for a professor to ask him why he never spoke.

But of course the universe seemed to hate him and believe the city really could wait 10 minutes more.
"Ah Mr. Piastri" Oscar cringed, it sounded as if he was addressing his father and not him.

"Professor" Oscar answered. (He was so close to the door).

Knox's eyes trailed from the board to him, body turning ever so slightly towards Oscar. "I feel as if I've missed something..." He paused looking back up at the equation. "You're a smart boy, please." He stepped away gesturing for Oscar to take a look.