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"So far what do we know about this thing?" wonders Torin, sitting on the floor in the corner of Midtown Tech's library. She has her legs propped up vertically with the wall. Her head rests on her blue backpack, and her red curls are spread across it. Snow falls outside, building up as the day goes on. Peter saw something on the news as he was getting ready for school about the potential for a blizzard later in the day. For November in New York City, this is big news. It hardly ever snows in November.
"A spider from a science exhibit about radiation bit us, and it's dead..." Peter twirls a pen in his hand at lightning speed. Torin watches it as if it were being twirled at a slower speed. "We should've taken it..."
Torin snorts, scribbling in her notebook with a blue pen. "You do understand how that sounds, right? Keeping a dead spider so we can study it?"
Peter narrows his eyes. "Well, how else are we gonna get answers?"
"Oscorp sponsored that exhibit. Ask Harry to take us to Oscorp," she offers. "We can ask if we can talk to his dad or something."
Peter leans forward to get a good look at his friend. He stares at her dubiously, challenging her. "You don't think that sounds at all suspicious? Besides, Harry's dad is always busy. What makes you think he's gonna wanna talk to us?"
Torin doesn't glance in Peter's direction, continuing to drag her pen across the lined pages. "If it doesn't work out then we'll do our own research. Or ask someone else at the company. I do think we need to start there."
"What are you drawing?" he wonders, no longer focused on the spider bite. As far as he was concerned this incident hadn't killed him, and he was better now. Stronger, faster, less nerdy-looking. He could climb walls, and he had heighten-senses. He felt great and as far as he could see, this felt like a gift.
Torin turns her notebook to Peter, showing him the drawing of a cartoon dog eating a slice of toast. "It's Toast the Dog."
Peter takes the notebook from his friend, who carefully sits up and watches him. Peter scribbles some words on the corner of the page and then hands it back over to her.
I'll get you this dog one day - Peter
Torin smiles softly, flipping to another page of her notebook. Peter notices that the page is splashed with colors of red and blue. She flips the notes again, trying to find a blank page.
"Wait. What was that?" Peter gestures for Torin to go back to the page with all the color.
"Oh, it...it's nothing, Petey."
Frowning, the boy shakes his head. He and Torin share almost everything with each other. Peter's always seen her drawings. What could be so embarrassing about this drawing? "What? Tor, don't be embarrassed about it. I'm sure it's great."
The facial expression on Torin is hard to read. Peter can't tell if she's anxious, embarrassed, or annoyed. Peter gives her a pouty look, hoping that will be enough for her to share her drawing. "You always share them with me," he says, his voice low with disappointment.
Torin sits up straight, raising an eyebrow at him. "Are you trying to guilt-trip me?" she wonders, scoffing slightly.
Peter quickly moves forward, reaching for the notebook with incredibly fast movements; but Torin also has quick reflexes. She leans away from Peter, raising an eyebrow at him in disbelief. Peter huffs in annoyance. "Why are you being so secretive about it?"
"Because," Torin sighs heavily. "If I show you what I've been drawing you'll get this crazy idea in your head that we could actually do this."
"Do what?" he presses. Peter gives her a wide-eyed look, his brown eyes gentle. He's giving her a puppy-dog look. Torin feels her own facial expression soften at his look.
"Be superheroes," she replies softly. Torin opens her notebook again, revealing the page of red and blue drawings. She hands it over to Peter, who takes it eagerly. Peter stares down at the sketches that Torin has been working on. It's an entire page of suit designs for Peter and Torin. She really ran with the idea of a spider being incorporated into the suit. The two of them have very similar designs and detailing. The masks have large white lenses in a similar shape to that of jack-o-lantern eyes. A spider's web starts on the men's suit mask, spreading across the red parts of the suit. There's a black spider in the center of what would be Peter's suit. On Torin's suit, the black spider in the center of her suit is larger, spreading out its eight legs across her shoulders, and around her hips and waist in a thick design, similar to the look on the back of Peter's suit. She had a smaller red spider between her shoulder blades. The drawing of the suits looked incredible.
"Red because that's your favorite color," she points out. "And blue because it's mine."
Peter smiles, "Tor, these are amazing." Peter studies the drawings again. "If only," he scoffs quietly.
Torin frowns a little, taking the notebook back from Peter. "Yeah."
"What if we practiced?" he asks suddenly. Peter stares at Torin, his expression completely serious. Before Torin can reply, he continues, "I'm serious. What if we became superheroes?"
"We don't know the first thing about what that means, Peter." Torin puts her notebook away, zipping up her backpack. "We can't just throw on a costume and call it good."
"That's why we'll practice. Climbing walls, and using our strength and reflexes to help people—"
Torin shakes her head, huffing out in annoyance. "See, I knew showing you those drawings would give you this idea. It's crazy and reckless."
"Obviously you had this idea, too! It's not crazy," he argues.
The two of them fall silent, hearing someone approach their little corner in the library. As Ned Leeds appears, the two of them relax slightly, staring up at him. Ned gives the two of them a wide smile. "Hi!"
"Hey, Ned," says Peter, clearing his throat. He hopes Ned hasn't heard what they've been talking about.
"What's up?" the boy questions, sitting down across from them.
Torin easily takes care of changing the conversation, worried that Peter might get nervous and spill something he shouldn't. Peter and Torin trust Ned as he's one of their closest friends, but that doesn't make it an easy decision. Besides, Ned has a tendency to get overly excited and share things he shouldn't. Like in the seventh grade when he accidentally told Gwen Stacy about the crush Peter had on her. Peter was furious for days because Flash Thompson, who is popular and also had a crush on Gwen at the time, bullied and targeted Peter relentlessly. Unfortunately, this special kind of torment never let up, and Flash still gets a word in when Gwen Stacy isn't around. Once upon a time, Gwen and Torin used to be close friends, but when Gwen chose to ignore the fact that Flash bullied Peter and Ned, and sometimes even Torin, the two of them had a bit of a falling out. Torin and Gwen still speak and occasionally have lunch together when Mary-Jane demands, in a loving and polite way, Torin to sit with them.
"Not much. I'm drawing. Wanna see?" she says to Ned.
"I didn't know you drew?" he says, nodding his head as Torin grabs her notebook from her backpack again and flips to a very detailed pencil drawing of the Millennium Falcon.
"My mom drew a lot when I was younger, and I sort've just picked it up from her," Torin admits. Sharing a subtle look of surprise, Ned and Peter don't say anything for a moment. Torin gestures to the drawing. "You can keep it if you'd like."
Ned smiles warmly. "Yeah, that sounds great. Thank you, Torin."
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Despite the dropping temperatures, intense winds, and obnoxious amounts of snow that New York City is experiencing, Midtown Tech doesn't let their students out early in order to accommodate longer and slower travel times. Normally Peter would take the tram back to his apartment in Queens with Mary-Jane, while Torin would walk the four blocks to pick up Joey from school, but today Mary-Jane hailed a ride from Harry Osborn, and Peter did not feel comfortable leaving Torin to brave the winter storm alone.
Peter and Torin have linked arms, pushing through the inches of snow in their shoes. Torin is wearing canvas shoes that soak in the cold snow, inherently making her toes and feet cold as well. She doesn't have winter boots. The two of them are wrapped up in their coats and hats with gloves, but it does not hold much against the roaring winds.
"Tor," Peter groans, raising his voice so she can hear him. "How much further?"
Torin rolls her eyes, avoiding the other New Yorkers that have braved the storm. She tightens her grip on Peter, worried he might slip behind. "You know where the school is. You went there."
There are very few people on the streets, and even the notoriously reckless and unyielding traffic isn't taking any chances. It is painfully white. The snow and wind paints everything in white and it has become increasingly difficult to see.
"Do you feel like your vision is too good?" wonders Peter, his teeth chattering slightly. He squints against the blinding snowflakes that fly at his face. He closes his right eye, as if trying to see better. He switches eyes, closing left eye and squints through his right.
"I was just thinking that," says Torin. "Like there's too much to see all at once. Too much to take in..." she trails off, thinking about how to channel it. Torin shakes her head slightly, trying to remove the dusting of snow on the bridge of her nose.
Peter slips on an ice patch underneath the inches of snow. He loosens his grip on Torin, who becomes unbalanced by the sudden weight change. The two teenagers steady themselves, still wobbly.
"H-hey," mumbles Peter, suddenly going incredibly still. "You...you feel that?"
Torin straightens herself, wanting Peter to clarify what he means, but she does feel something. A shiver runs through her body. Peter turns his head, trying to gather where this sense of foreboding and danger may be coming from. The two of them hear it before they see it. Tires squealing against the sound of slick ice and wet snow. Someone screams in fear.
Peter scrambles in the direction of the shout, slipping on the ice with such speed that his torso bends forward and he holds his hands out in front of himself in case he falls on his knees.
"Peter!" shouts Torin, sprinting after him. The two of them watch as the car from the street diagonal to them swerves. The two of them continue to move, watching the car trying to slow down and avoid the person that is on the ground. The person has fallen on the ice and seems to have hurt their ankle.
"We have to stop that car," he says, his voice alert and clear.
Sliding on her soaked converse, Torin darts across the intersection with Peter by her side. Torin trips, sliding on one knee for a moment, trying to remember her new strength she has. She pushes herself back up, diving toward the person in the street as Peter braces himself in front of the car. He holds out his arms, ready to block the car as Torin yanks the person out of the way, spinning toward the sidewalk.
The passenger side of the car upends, and Peter strains slightly with effort as the car's wheels spin and he slips in the snow. Peter lets the car back down and it thuds heavily against the snow and asphalt beneath. From the sidewalk, Torin checks on the bypasser, who shivers and sniffles in the cold. Torin puts a hand on their shoulder.
"Excuse me? Can you...can you call the police?" She gestures with her hand. The person nods, eyes wide as Peter slides over to them.
He pants slightly, "Hey. Uh, driver's okay...they're calling the police. I, uh, I think...we should...we should go," he says to Torin. Torin nods her head. Peter holds out a hand in the space between the teenagers and the person they just saved. "Are you okay?"
The person bobs their head in shock, already dialing the number on their phone. Peter and Torin scurry back to the sidewalk from where they came. Torin adjusts the straps of her backpack on her shoulders. She smirks over at Peter. "Huh, even kept my backpack on."
"That was awesome," Peter breathes out.