Little Spy | Peter Parker ✓

[14]

It took several seconds of me standing outside of the door, shifting my weight from one shiny shoe to another and growing more and more irritated by the second before the door swung open and the familiar face of his Aunt May peered out. She blinked at me for a couple seconds, probably confused at my presence, then masked it with a smile. "Yes?"

"Hi, I am...Emily Newman and I go to school with Peter? We have a project, and I was told to meet up with him here?"

The words seemed to register and clear things up in her head, as she blinked and opened the door wide for me to come in, a smile growing. "Yes, he mentioned that! Something about a science report?"

"Mm. Something like that," I mumbled, already tuning her out to take in the small room I had stepped into. Like the door, it was kept very clean - surprising, considering what I had been told about this woman's grief complex. I was not accustomed to the process of grieving, but she looked like a woman who would let herself go, not resort to keeping everything picture perfect. I took note of the way things were set up, however; a picture of the seemingly beloved man hung amongst many other frames, another depicting a small boy sandwiched between a happy couple - no doubt a young Parker and his parents. My lip curled, and I forced myself to turn away. 

"Is, um, Peter here at the moment?"

May nodded and gestured vaguely down the hall. "Second door on the right. Just knock and let him know it's you first. He's rather touchy about people stumbling in uninvited."

"Ah."

"Yeah, he," she chuckled, like her next words were anything to laugh over, "he's a strange boy, he is. Nice, but so quiet. I hope he's not weird at school, right?"

"No."

Her smile broadened. "Nice to hear a second witness. Ned's been the only one who's come visit him - not that there's anything wrong with that, of course, he prefers his alone time. Maybe his strange contraptions make better friends, yeah?"

I blinked. 

May's smile beamed down at me, unwavering. "Sorry for all that gabbing. I hope you two have fun, get lots of learning done!"

It was difficult, remaining composed, when such obvious suspicion was practically being offered to me on a silver plate. Did this woman not realise how odd such behaviour was? Perhaps all American teenagers were antisocial shut ins, I knew a large portion of the population dealt with introverted tendencies, but still. A teenage boy, alone in his room, only coming in and out with strange machines and secrets? Perhaps I had been wrong about Peter's aunt, that she was not the worrier I presumed. Clearly, she had no clue about who her nephew really was.

Still, it was of no consequence. This woman did not matter. I dismissed myself quickly, mumbling a soft 'thanks' before heading down the hall. I paused for a moment, gathering myself and running through my objective in my head before knocking.

Three sharp raps against the thin wood were all it took for an answer-back, difficult to make out through the wood, "I'm busy, Aunt May!"

"Can I come in, Peter? It's me, Emily!" That thin, chirpy voice was going to be the death of me; each day pretending to be the fluttery and innocent transfer got harder and harder, and as soon as I was done I was going to scream any essence of that stupid, sing-song accent out of me. That was if I was even still able to speak by the end. "I am here to work on our project."

There was no verbal response, but it wasn't hard to guess from the sounds of distant crashes, a couple of thuds and grunts that he was, slowly and messily, making his way to the door. I shifted my weight and ground my teeth, holding what little patience I had to my chest to endure waiting for him to answer. After several long moments of pause, the door swung open and his wide-eyed gaze landed on mine.