The Girl and the Superhero{Peter Parker}

Part 38(Peter's POV)

          "Hey! That's not fair," I argued. "James is way more defensive than I am."

          Steve's nose turned up in disgust. "Did you just call him James?"

          "I tried calling him Bucky, but he says that 'Bucky' is reserved for people that don't have spider DNA running through their veins."

          "That's kind of a harsh curriculum," Kenz pointed out.

          I was about to agree when Steve blatantly contradicted my internal validation. "No, it's fair. Buck has a thing with spiders."

          "No, he doesn't. He picked up a spider to count how many legs it had the other day. Then, he found some of my silver nail polish and painted one of its legs because he 'wanted something to relate to'." Nat narrowed her eyes at Steve.

          "He could've just given me a metal arm like his if he wanted something to relate to," I muttered. "That thing is sweet."

          "I could count how many times Peter has fanboyed over Bucky's arm on my fingers, but I would need about thirty-seven hands," Kenzie said.

          "Can you blame me? Having a metal arm opens up a whole world of opportunity! There's so many different things you could do with it. You could find a way to sneak a dart gun or a taser into your arm, and when you're wearing a jacket, nobody would know! Not to mention the obvious strength and tactical advantage that comes with having a two and a half foot long, solid, virtually unbreakable piece of vibranium metal on hand. Plus, I bet that thing has a great magnetic pull. You could basically have a portable memory board on your arm if you got enough magnets."

          Kenzie tapped my shoulder lightly, her lips pressed together. "You should've left it at the strength and tactical advantage comment."

          My face burned. "What's wrong with a memory board?"

          "Nothing. You're welcome to have a memory board, it's just not the best argument for having a metal arm." Kenz said as she settled next to me, leaning on the counter and rubbing her temples.

          "Is there a bad reason to want a metal arm?" I moved in front of Kenzie, examining her pained face. I pulled her hands away from her hairline and searched her opening eyes for dilation. The blacks of her eyes were almost overtaking the dark caramel rings that hosted them. Noticing this, I wrapped her in my arms, still angry at myself for not being fast enough to catch her before she hit the ground the night before.

          "Speaking of wanting things— didn't we come into the kitchen for lunch?" Natasha spoke to Steve, who narrowed his eyes at her.

          "I haven't won this argument yet, Nat," Steve complained.

          "You don't have to win every argument, Steve."

          "I can't lose to a kid!"

          "I'm not a kid!" I interjected, eyebrows furrowing.

          Completely ignoring me, they bursted out into their own debate over arguments. Kenz didn't seem to notice, however. With wide eyes and a massive smile, she grabbed my arm and spoke as if her pain had vanished. "This is insane."

          "What, the fact that Nat and Steve are arguing over arguing or the fact that Captain America thinks that I'm a child?"

          Kenzie slapped my forearm. "You are a child."

          "Hey! I turn eighteen in less than a month."

          "I turned eighteen yesterday— wait, that's not the point!" Kenzie groaned. "What was I saying?"