Chapter 2

2.3K 80 41
                                    

Peter

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Peter

  ⌲  

When I get home, Aunt May is cooking. It smells like Hamburger Helper. That's one of the only things she can cook. She's the master at making spaghetti, though. No one makes spaghetti like Aunt May. Not that you needed to know that, but it's true.

I drop my things on the chair next to the couch and make my way over to the kitchen. I grab a soda out of the fridge and lean on the counter, sipping from the can.

Aunt May smiles in my direction, "How was your day back, Peter?"

I shrug and take another sip. "I- it was fine. I have tons of homework, though. So... that's a bummer..." I slurp my soda nonchalantly. "I have a project already, too. I asked Michelle if she'd be my partner but she blatantly said no, so I partnered with Betty instead. She'll be coming over on Wednesday."

May tries to act like she didn't hear two girl names come out of my mouth. It doesn't work, because she's already smiling. I roll my smiling eyes and walk quietly into my room. We are not having that conversation.

When I enter my room, I don't shut my door like I have for the last two years. Ever since... well, ever since my Aunt May found out about my 'job', I've found there is not a lot of reasoning for being secretive anymore. 

I guess I'm just an open book for May because now that she knows my greatest secret- I'm very bad at keeping secrets- I feel less guilty. Now, I can tell her what's going on. Except, there is nothing going on. At least, nothing that involves my second life. My spiderman career is dead and a complete hole of nothing.

Nothing.

I thought I would be going crazy, but it's kind of reassuring. My spidey-senses never go haywire unless something serious happens, so I guess that means that all is right with the neighborhood. I'm okay with being Spiderman when the people need him, and not when I need him.

Interrupting my thoughts, Aunt May calls me to set the table after I get dressed in sweats and a t-shirt with some dumb pun on it.

I walk into the dining room and help set plates and eating utensils on the table. We haven't even gotten two bites in when May decides that mentioning two girls was just too much for her not to comment on. I mean, she just has to know. I roll my eyes once again as the words start to flow.

"So... Betty, huh? Cute name. Should I know anything about Betty? Does she have a favorite snack?" She takes a bite of Hamburger Helper and looks at me head-on. "The snack better not be you."

I choke on my soda and swallow the burning liquid down as May cackles like an insane person. I smile, despite everything she just said, and give her a look of 'What the hell are you trying to do to me? You're supposed to be the adult!' She continues to have this glistening look in her eyes and continues on.

Simple, → Peter▵MJWhere stories live. Discover now