Between the Lines of a Web

Queens' one and only

Oscar took a deep breath, eyes scanning across the green chalk board, marked up from years of teaching.

Knox was the oldest teacher here, not just in age but how long he has taught in this institution. This class room had belonged to but two teachers in total, Knox had once told the class, wired on coffee and zero sleep (much like Oscar ninety percent of the time). One teacher being doctor Norman Osborn, the man invited him to the lab in tenth grade and slipped him a key, and the other was Professor Knox. (If you'd ask Oscar which he preferred, he'd tell the one without multiple personality disorder and tried to kill him on countless occasions.)

After about thirty seconds of starting at the expansive, overcomplicated, messy equation, Oscar had come to the conclusion that this was a test for Oscar. Knox had no issue solving this, he's sure of it. Know wanted to see if Oscar understood it.

Which he does.

"It's the pendulum swing Sir" Oscar's voice came out steady, sure of himself.

"It is indeed Mr. Piastri. But I did not ask you to identify the equation..." His voice trailed as he placed a finger to his chin. Oscar prayed he would stop addressing him as Mr. Piastri.

Oscar analyzed the question again, then a third time. Brow's furrowing

"T = mg\cos\theta + \frac{mv^2}{L}" The question read out written in white chalk, a few of the letters smudged
Oscar cleared his throat turning to Knox who had been watching him ever so carefully. He prayed before the words came out of his mouth: please do not land me another lab card, he'd had enough of crazy scientists that try to kill him every other week.

"You're solving for tension, right? The tension in the line is the sum of the gravitational component and the centripetal component. So it's T = mg\cos\theta + \frac{mv^2}{L}," Dryly he add's: "Basically: the tighter you swing, the faster you go, the more likely the rope—or web—snaps."

Knox's face slowly lights up, a smile creeping into the far edges of his eyes, wrinkled from age. The professor claps his hands together beaming brightly at Oscar. "Exactly Mr. Piastri!"

Knox taps the board loudly with a piece of chalk. "This, rather child-level equation has been on my board for a while now, do the rise in curiosity for a certain wall-crawling phenomenon..." he turns back to Oscar. "I
assume your familiar with Spider-Man"

Oscar felt his stomach drop to his feet as he cleared his throat again, faking a smile. "Of course Sir, who in New York isn't"

"Ah, well right you are Mr. Piastri" he sets the chalk down and walks over to pack his brief case. Oscar's eyes follow his movements landing on his desk, covered in newspapers and magazines all with his- well Spider-Man's face on it. "He- or rather his body understands physics beyond any professor or doctor does. I hope one day that a smart boy such as you helps me to uncover his... secret per say"

Oscar forces a smile one foot out the door, heart pounding in his head. His laugh came out thin. "yeah maybe."

And just like that he was sprinting down the hallway of
Midtown High.

—

He was in the alley below his apartment within the next ten minutes. Clothes came off faster than he could count to two.

Truthfully he hated the winter, the suit was thermal, it was almost painful to strip to even get into the suit in the first place, and it was dark before he could stop less than one
criminal.

Summer was no better though, the suit stuck to his body in places he didn't even know existed. And running, don't get him started on chasing the bastards who got to the point of stealing the car before Oscar could catch them.
He pulled his mask over his face last, tucking everything into his bag and throwing it threw his room window a few stories above. A few things clattered as he cringed. That was most likely his make shift lap set up he'd have to
rebuild once again.