As the end of August neared, you began to fear the return of school. Not because you hated it—in fact, you were fond of school. You liked learning, you liked seeing your friends from certain classes, and you even missed some of your teachers. However, with the return of your school came the return of Spider-Man’s school. He had explained to you how difficult it was to balance the responsibilities of his civilian life with the responsibilities of being a superhero. Between those tightropes of time management, you doubted there would be any hours allotted to visiting you.
You knew that you had no right to be sad about your predicament. The right thing to do would be to not think selfishly, and just be happy with the time you were given with someone who doesn’t normally share their world. But, no matter how many times you had a talk with yourself, you still couldn’t bring yourself out of your melancholy thoughts.
It didn’t help that Spider-Man had already begun frequenting your fire escape less and less. Ever since the night he reached out to fix your hair, he hadn’t shown up for your midnight talks at all. Granted, it had only been two weeks, and since there had been no strenuous fights or big explosions, you weren’t particularly worried. You were, however, particularly lonely. You missed him. Sitting out on your fire escape alone was different than it had been before you had met the masked hero. Before, you were content with just you and a book, some soft music in the background with city sounds around you. Now, you felt isolated, and the quiet music and city sounds weren’t nearly loud enough to ease the loss of Spider-Man’s chatter.
Still, you tried to move on. You played music louder, you talked out loud to yourself, you doodled the skyline more, you hung out with friends more often, and you filled your time with things that had made you happy before. Today, for example, you were accompanying your friend Alex to the bank. While it was not the most exciting task in the world, it was the act of a responsible adult that wasn’t hung up on a superhero, and therefore something that needed to be accomplished. Being a responsible adult also meant holding Alex back and not letting her attack the teller who needed to brush up on their customer service skills.
“I’m sorry, miss, could you please explain to me what exactly the problem is, again?” The teller said in a monotone voice.
Alex took a deep breath and calmly replied, “Whenever I use my debit card, it’s taking the money from my savings account, instead of my chequing account. As you can imagine, that setup doesn’t work for me.”
“Are you sure you’re pressing ‘chequing’ on debit machines, and not savings?” The teller asked, not even looking up from his computer screen.
“Am I—” Alex took another breath. “Yes. I am sure.”
“Are you? Because there is nothing showing up on your account that explains how your savings and chequing could be switched. Maybe you’re just mixing it up?” The teller still hadn’t looked up from his computer screen, which was a poor choice on his part; if he had, he would have seen the warning signs that a teenage girl was about to tear him apart.
“Listen, you ignoramus—”
“Oh, boy,” You sighed, gently grabbing your friends arm. “Alex—”
“—do you really think that I work a minimum wage job in retail to save up money for university, just so that my savings can slowly be drained without my knowledge? Do you really think I would want that? Do you? Why would I take the time each month to split up my earnings into a savings account just so that I could spend them?”
You had to hand it to the bank teller—even with a venomous teen ready to rip out his throat, he managed to look unfazed. You felt a little bad for him, but you guessed that’s just what working in customer service does to a guy. Despite his nonchalance, everyone else in the bank from the mom in the corner with two kids to the man in the leather jacket by the door was staring at the scene you were unwillingly apart of.
