CAT SCRATCH FEVER | PETER PARKER

As Luck Would Have It

Rolling over on his side, Peter craned his neck to look at the clock, wiping the sleep crusted above his eyelashes. As the blurred numbers came into clear view, his bloodshot eyes suddenly widened at the time.

It was already 9:30!

"Aw no!" He shot out of bed, not realizing he had gotten himself tangled in the sheets. "Get off!" He yelled at the inanimate bedsheets as they twisted around his legs. After several seconds of kicking and struggling, Peter finally managed to unwrap himself from the blue cotton.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and a shirt that was a size too small, Peter slipped into his shoes, too much of in a hurry to notice they were completely different styles.

"May!" He called out as he zipped up his backpack. "Are you still here?"

When he heard no answer, he peered his head into the hallway and saw that the apartment was empty. May must have been called into work, which explained why she didn't come wake him. But that didn't explain why his alarm didn't.

Snatching his phone off the nightstand, Peter unlocked it to check. To his horror and utter dismay, it turned out he hadn't set his alarm like he previously thought.

With a sigh, he stuck his phone in his front pocket before running out the door towards the station.

**

While on the subway, Peter kept glancing at his phone, seeing the time was quickly approaching 10:00. He frowned and clung closer to the metal pole, tapping his foot against the floor loudly. It was then as he glanced down did he notice one foot wearing a sneaker and the other a dress shoe.

Peter immediately looked away, hoping no one else noticed as well. But the people glancing between him and his feet told him otherwise.

He could only offer them a nervous smile in return.

After what seemed to be like hours, the subway finally arrived at his stop. But as it slowed down, it came to a rough halt and jerked Peter forward into an old man seated in front of him.

"Hey! Watch it, kid!" The man shoved him off with his cane.

"I–I'm so, so sorry, sir!" As much as Peter would have liked to stay and see if the man was okay, the doors were already beginning to close. Turning his body to the side, Peter was barely able to squeeze through the doors and hop onto the platform.

Running like he had never run before, Peter darted through the swarms of commuters, having to push through some of them.

"I'm sorry!" he cried as he continued towards the exit.

Even once he was on the sidewalk, Peter did not stop to catch his breath. He just kept sprinting like he was an Olympic runner, and maybe if someone had been timing him, he could have qualified.

When he in came within view of the campus, Peter came to an abrupt halt at the realization that he wouldn't be in the same classroom as yesterday. Heck, he might not even be in the same building.

Whipping out his phone again, he scrolled his gallery frantically for his schedule. "Warren Weaver Hall," he read. "Okay, I think I know where that's at."

Ready to take off, Peter spun around on his heel, immediately colliding into Felicia and falling over her. They both fell to the grass with a groan.

"Well, good morning to you too." Her eyes gleamed into his. Their noses were practically touching.

Seeing the awkward position he was in, he quickly recoiled back from her. "I'm sorry! I totally didn't mean to do that! Are–Are you okay?"

She laughed, taking the hand he had extended to her. "Yeah! I'm fine, Peter!"