𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒 ✓

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I still wasn't used to waking up to my alarm clock the next morning, once again rolling over and slamming my hand down to get it to stop. With a groan and a stretch, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes with closed fists.

Walking over to my open closet and sifting through the clothes hanging from the rack, I pulled out an oversized shirt and a pair of jeans, setting a pair of boots aside as I ran through my typical morning routine. After running through everything as usual, I went about grabbing everything I'd need for school, including my sketchbook, bag of mechanics, and the device Spider-Man had given to me last night.

Superheroes weren't out of the ordinary. Everyone knew about the Avengers, and more and more superheroes were popping up in practically every major city in America. I think that's why Adam's death hit me as hard as it did; I never expected anything bad to happen to him since there were so many people around to stop that kind of thing. It made me wonder if Spider-Man had been around then, or if Adam had just really been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"(Y/N)! Breakfast!" My father's voice traveled through the apartment, prompting me to slip on my shoes and head into the kitchen. It was easy to conclude that my mother was either still at work or sleeping off a late shift, so I suffered through my dad's poorly cooked bacon and eggs to thank him for the effort. "Got everything?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm gonna stay late to work on some projects, since Midtown's got an engineering lab I wanna check out."

"Don't stay too late, I don't want you riding the subway back too late at night."

"I know, Dad." I finished up my plate quickly, already running a little late, and grabbed my backpack to head out the door. Taking the subway card off the coffee table, I bid goodbye to my father before slipping out the door and making my usual walk down to the subway station.

It was intriguing to watch everyone that was out this early in the morning. The bulk of commuters was made up of people in their late 20s to early 30s, on their way to work or to run errands. There was a large number of businessmen and women, all clutching briefcases and talking on the phone. The rest of the commuters were primarily students, usually around my age, all toting backpacks and notebooks. The music I had playing in my ears drowned out the sounds of the cars on the street next to me, so I didn't realize I'd, once again, walked into traffic until a hand gripped onto my backpack and pulled me back onto the curb.

"Shit, that was close." Turning around to see the figure who had grabbed me, I saw Peter adjusting the sleeve of his shirt, unable to tell if he was embarrassed or nervous.

"Second time in two days I've done that. I really need to get used to the New York traffic." Once the pedestrian light turned white, the crowd I stood within began to move across the crosswalk. Peter stayed standing next to me. "It's not like this back home."

"Not this much traffic?" I shook my head.

"No. I used to live in a small town in the midwest, so you can kinda just...walk out in the middle of the road and not worry about getting hit. I guess it's a little different here."

"Why'd you move to Queens?"

"My parents wanted to get a new start after my brother died. He used to live in New York, and my parents could get some pretty good job opportunities, so we decided to get our fresh start here."

"I'm sorry about your brother. I'm sure it had to have been hard, even hard leaving all your family and friends behind." All I did was shrug in response.

"I didn't really have any friends back home, and my grandparents have lived in Seattle since I was born. I'm trying to...adjust."

The two of us filed onto the subway car, standing in the middle of the aisle due to the lack of seats.

"What about you, Peter? Have you lived here your whole life?" He nodded.

"I know this place like the back of my hand. It certainly has its...advantages."

"What do your parents do for work?"

"My parents died when I was a kid, so it's just me and my aunt now."

"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry."

The conversation halted for a second, both of us unsure what to say or where to take it. I cleared my throat and spoke up to try to erase the tension.

"I'm going to the robotics lab after school if you wanna come." He rubbed the back of his neck and gripped the handhold tighter as the subway car skidded to a stop.

"Actually, I have my internship after school, but I'll see if I have some extra time." The two of us filed out after everyone else, the bright sunlight blinding me momentarily when we approached the surface again.

"Where do you intern at? I've been looking for some good job opportunities."

"Uhm, I intern at Stark Industries."

"Wait, seriously? I'd kill to get an internship there, half of my designs are modeled after Stark tech." Peter laughed, fixing his backpack straps as we approached the gates of Midtown High.

"Maybe I can get you in sometime, introduce you."

"I would literally love you forever if you did that for me." Peter's face immediately turned red, sending out an awkward nod before he parted to find his own locker.

The day ran by smoothly, same as the day before. It took a little time to find the robotics lab at the end of the day, but by the time I was able to find it, most of the stations were already taken. I took the first open one I saw, a small station all the way in the back corner of the room. Pulling the canvas bag from my backpack and dumping its contents onto the workbench, I spread everything out, popping the small machine Spider-Man had given me the night before back into the front pocket of my backpack.

"So, what's the plan of attack?" I jumped a little at Peter's voice behind me, clutching my chest as I laughed.

"Jesus, Peter, you scared the shit out of me." He set his own backpack down, muttering an apology and coming to stand next to me. "I thought you had your internship?"
"I have a little extra time, figured I'd stop by."

"Well I'm glad you're here. I tried to mold the metal last night but I can't hold it down with one hand and screw everything in with the other. Do you mind?" I handed him a thin piece of metal and thick plastic casing, one of his hands placing the casing down while the other bent the pliable metal over top. I tried to move around his fingers to put the screws in place, but every once in a while our hands would brush accidentally. I could feel the heat rise to my face every time.

Once the casing was finished, I worked on putting the mechanism inside the round outer shell, Peter helping once again by holding everything in place. Once everything was screwed in, wired up, and seemingly completed, I let it rest on the table.

"So, what's this thing for, anyway?"
"It's a gift for my dad. He's a huge Star Wars fan, so I wanted to make him something for his desk at work. It was supposed to be done a month ago in time for his birthday, but better late than never. Now I just have to see if I hooked the laser diode up right. I just started working with electronics a few months ago so I'm not exactly the best at it yet." Placing my finger on the small button on the back of the model, the mechanics inside switched on, a thin, green beam of light emitting faintly from the inside of the model.

"Looks like you got the hang of it pretty quickly." Peter grabbed his bag and slung the straps over his shoulders, pulling something out of his pocket. "Hey, I gotta go, but uh, here."

I took the small slip of paper from his hands, looking at the numbers scrawled across in thick black sharpie. When I looked back at Peter, he seemed nervous, as if handing me his phone number was something to be worried about.

"I figured you might want it. In case you wanna, uhm, hang out or something sometime."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll see you later, Pete." I picked my own backpack up, throwing the model in the canvas bag and the bag into my backpack pocket. "Thanks for the help, by the way. Nice to meet someone as smart as I am."

His face turned red as I laughed and walked out of the room, shaking my head as I walked through the mostly empty hallways. There was something about Peter and I couldn't put my finger on, but maybe finally finding a friend like him was the new start I needed.

𝓈𝓊𝓃𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 | p.p. x reader | book one.Where stories live. Discover now