Little Spy | Peter Parker ✓

[23]

Eager to interrupt the heavy, unpleasant tension that hung like drapes on our shoulders, I stood up and headed over, picking up a small figure - one I recognised to be from the movie series he adored to no end. "This - who is this, Peter?"

In an instant the boy was up and grabbing the figurine from my hand, burying it in a nearby sweater and shrugging like nothing had happened. "It's nothing, Ned must have left it here-"

"-jeez, I'm not here to judge you, it was just a question." My voice was light, lilting, teasing but in a way that wasn't meant to dig deep, just meant to poke some fun at such a serious time. "I don't know much about the series, is all. Trust me, if I was trying to be mean, you'd be wailing on the ground."

The boy relaxed a little, even smiled at a bit at my joke - which, funnily enough, wasn't even really a joke - and waved a hand lazily around at his room. "It's hard to explain. Not something I can easily talk about, I...guess."

"Oh?" He was on the brink of sharing, but I could tell his thoughts were stopping his words and he was debating the idea of telling the truth. "You don't have to-"

"-it's okay," he mumbled, brushing off my hasty apology. "It's just stress I guess. Lots of stuff happening around that seems to always take up...everything."

It wasn't hard to understand what he was referring to, even if he didn't know I knew; he was tired and as a fifteen-year-old superhero battling everything around him, that was understandable. Of course, it wasn't really like he could just tell me that he wore a red and blue onesie and walked old women across the street all day, but I understood, in a twisted way, what he was going through.

My hands itched in my pocket, eager to whip out the web cartridge he had dropped and told him that I knew, but it stayed hidden. It wasn't the time to do that; right now, I needed to make sure the boy knew that I was his friend and that even though I 'had no idea' of anything, I was there to support him. Not turn this into an interrogation and a war zone.

So, instead, I gestured to the project and his laptop and tried to pretend like I wasn't dying of a multitude of questions, "let's work on this, I guess - I mean, that's why I'm here, right?"

"Right - um, not just cause that's the only reason you're here, of course, just that we should work on the project, of course."

I smiled, "it's okay, Peter. You really don't need to explain yourself."

He nodded, and we sat back down, me cross-legged and him with his laptop pressed against his legs, serving as a way for him to - hopefully - calm down. I was dying to ask more questions, but I wasn't sure where to start or if it was even the right time. It was easier for him to sit and focus, and though it wasn't at all what I wanted to do, that wasn't the point of this.

After a few long minutes, I flopped backwards and groaned, pretending to be bored out of my mind - which wasn't really that hard to fake, considering how much I hated watching him work in silence. "Okay, that's enough work now."

The boy chuckled a bit, loosening up at my antics and watching closely even as his hands still flew across his laptop. "We've only done a little bit though."

"Yes, but that's enough for me," I groaned, half-heartedly tossing a pillow at the boy to get his attention once more. "Can't we do something else? We're practically done the work anyway!"

"I guess? I-"

"-Great," I smiled, shooting up from my fallen position. "Then let's do something."

The boy watched me warily, but nervous excitement radiated through his eyes and the pain he clutched so close to his chest before wasn't quite so apparent. "What are you planning, exactly?"