Peter Parker bobbed his head to one of his favorite songs as he walked down the sidewalk, hands on the straps of his backpack, humming the song under his breath. It was Friday (thank goodness) and after he was finished with Spider-Man duties, he would have a whole evening to nap.
Delmar's was almost in view as he scrolled through his music, hitting replay. He would be listening to the song again and again until it grew old and got annoying.
As he approached the tiny shop on the corner, he heard a particularly young and annoyed voice through the music blaring out of his earbuds. He lifted his head and saw a girl, probably his age, in a wheelchair that set low towards the ground.
She was trying to reach the door handle but, as rude customers pushed passed her and pushed through the doorway, she couldn't get in.
"Excuse me," she kept saying, her voice annoyed and tired.
Finally, the last customer came in. He let the door close behind him, leaving her outside. She lifted her arms off the wheels of her wheelchair and gave an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. Messy hair fell out of her loose bun and around her cheeks.
And of course, Peter being Peter, thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on. Great. Like he needed another crush to distract him from what he needed to focus on, like getting picked for another "retreat" or mission with Mr. Stark.
He felt his body moving through the air as he did a short sprint to the door. He grabbed the handle and pulled out his earbuds. "Here," he said politely, "let me get that for you, miss."
She looked up at him, smiling shyly. "Thanks," she muttered, placing her hands on the wheels again. He nodded as she wheeled herself inside.
He walked slowly behind her, not wanting her to feel like she had to rush to keep ahead of him. He made sure he didn't walk with long strides and looked at the menu as if he wasn't going to order the same stupid sandwich he always did.
"Sorry," he heard her say quietly as he grabbed two bags of gummy worms.
He looked down, crossing his arms. "Huh?"
"Sorry," she repeated. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "This is, uh, new to me. The wheelchair, anyway. I've never gone out on my own with it. I thought I'd be better at it by now."
"Oh. You don't have to apologize," he assured her. "I'm not in any hurry."
She appeared relieved. "Well, you're the first person in Queens to be this patient and kind," she said. "The last few people that have been stuck behind me weren't so forgiving."
"That's Queens for ya," he said lightly.
"Yeah," she agreed. "So, uh, my name is ___."
"Peter," he said. He nodded thoughtfully, trying to look cool all the while his heart beat rapidly in his chest. "You from 'round here?"
"Used to be," she said. "Same crazy bus accident that took my ability to walk took out the left side of my apartment, too." She smiled, but it was sad. "Nearly took me out with it. I managed to get by though."
Peter raised his eyebrows. "You lived on Third Street?"
"I did."
"Wow," he said. "I'm, uh, real sorry about that."
And he was. He was partly responsible for the accident. Several weeks ago, a bus lost its brakes and was speeding down Fourth Street, unstoppable and threatening the lives of every citizen out on the streets. Peter had no choice but to swing himself into the side of it, throwing it off the main road and sending it flying towards an apartment complex before it swerved off a bridge. His plan was to web it up and keep it from hitting the apartment, but he wasn't fast enough.
So, really, he was totally responsible.
"No one died, so that's all that really matters. And I'm grateful to be alive - all thanks to that Spider-Man from YouTube. Everyone says it's his fault I can't walk, but he saved so many people by doing what he did. I'm sure it's not easy to make a fast decision like he did."
Peter's eyes softened. "I'm sure it's not. And I agree completely." He looked back at the menu, his heart swelling up.
"So what's good here?" the girl asked, making his eyes break away from the menu and focus on her. She was biting the tip of her pointer finger, focusing intently on the lists of sandwiches. "Anything super amazing?"
"Uh, well, I always get the, uh, the number five with pickles, smushed down all flat."
Her nose wrinkled. "Sounds gross," she said. "What makes it good?"
"Uh, everything," he said, smiling.
"Everything," she repeated, laughing. "Huh. Okay. I guess I can take your word for it-"
"Hey, if you don't like it, I'll buy another one for you," he said.
Her eyes lit up. Was she aware he was shamelessly flirting with her? Should he be ashamed of it? Just yesterday, he was flirting with Liz - or trying to, at least.
"Guess there's no reason for me not to try it then, huh?" she teased, her eyes dazzling. "If a cute boy offers to buy you a sandwich, you take it."
Peter couldn't take his eyes off of her. There was so much beauty in the way she smiled, the way her nose crinkled and her eyes squinted, her hair messy but still pretty.
"R-Right," he stammered, face red. He ducked his head down, tucking his chin into his chest, grinning. He fished for his wallet and took out a couple of fives. "I-I'll pay."
At his turn at the counter, she rolled her wheelchair right up next to him. Peter petted Delmar's cat, stroking his fingers through its thick, fluffy fur.
"Hey, Murph," he said softly. "What's up, buddy?"
"Is that a cat?" she asked, craning her neck to see.
"Yeah," he said.
"And his name is Murph?"
"Uh-huh. You haven't been to Delmar's at all before?" he asked.
"Nope. First time. Lucky me I ran into you, though. You're an expert." She winked at him, making him blush and laugh nervously.
"Hey, Mr. Parker!" Mr. Delmar greeted, leaning over the counter. "Number five, pickles, smushed down all flat?"
Peter smiled and nodded. "Yes, sir. Two today, please."
"Two?" he asked. "Surely you're not that hungry."
"Nah," he said, smacking the money against the counter. He jerked his thumb to the girl next to him.
"Ah, Mr. Parker has got a girl now, eh?" He grinned.
Peter turned red. "Uh, well, uh... no-"
"Hi," she said.
"Hey," Mr. Delmar replied. He looked at Peter, swiping the two fives off the counter. "She's pretty, Mr. Parker."
He ducked his head down, suppressing a smile.
Yeah, I know.
...
Peter knew he shouldn't feel guilty, but he did. He felt horrible for what he had done and how it had changed the sweet girl he had met at Delmar's life forever.
In a matter of weeks, he had managed to fall head over heels in love. That probably made him feel even worse. But he couldn't help but like her so much - she was funny and kind and met him at Delmar's every day after school, always waiting by the entrance.
They had come up with a system to alternate buying sandwiches for one another. After buying them, they'd go outside, find an empty part of the sidewalk, and sit against a brick wall, eating and talking and laughing.
He was amazed by her. She had gone through so much and never let it change her heart. She smiled even when things weren't easy. Even when people made comments or her wheelchair got stuck or Peter had to slow down to wait for her, she remained patient and kind.
"I'm trying," she'd say, sounding like she was trying to encourage herself. "I'm trying, and that's all that matters."
It was Monday, and they were sitting against a wall, Peter several inches lower than her as she stayed in her chair. Sauce from his sandwich dripped down his chin and she handed him a wad of napkins.
"Thanks," he said through a mouthful of pickles and bread, smiling up at her. He wiped the napkins across his lips. "You've been kind of quiet. Rough day at school?"
"Kinda," she said. She frowned. "I wish we went to school together, Peter."
"Me too," he said. His eyebrows pulled together with concern. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"Track started today," she said. She scoffed at herself. "And honestly, I'd never thought about joining it before but now that it's impossible, it's all that I can think about. Well, not all I can think about. I can't keep up with my friends anymore and they don't want to wait for me, so. I shouldn't blame them, but..." There were tears in her eyes as she pulled her lip back with her teeth. "If it were them in this chair, I would wait for as long as they needed me to."
Peter sat his trash on the ground and shifted so that he was on his knees. He looked at her sadly, watching her wipe away an escaped tear. It was the first time he'd ever seen her cry.
"___," he said softly.
"It's stupid," she cried, attempting to laugh. "I should be grateful to be alive."
"You can be mad," he said. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close until her head rested against his shoulder. "You don't have to be nice about it all the time." He rubbed her back. "Cry if you want. Honest, I don't mind."
She made a fist around his sweater. "Peter," she whimpered, sniffling. "I like you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you."
He pulled back and smiled. She blushed when he cupped a hand around her cheek and swiped a tear away with his thumb. The sound of a car horn and police sirens blocks away brought him back to reality. He straightened up and pulled back, grabbing his backpack and gathering his napkins and wrappers.
"I gotta go," he said. "I'll call you tonight."
"Okay," she said. "See ya."
He stood up, slipping his arms through the straps of his backpack. He headed off to the left. He stopped halfway, turning back towards her.
"Uh, hey," he called out, making her look at him. "For the record, I'd wait for you." He nodded. "I'd wait for you as long as you needed me to."
Her eyes widened and she smiled. It was a grin full of giddiness and love and Peter just knew that she liked him just as much as he liked her. "Goodbye, Peter."
He waved and turned away, smiling to himself as he broke out into a run towards the alley, where he'd change into his suit and protect the world - more carefully, now that he knew what his recklessness could do.
Without saying it, Peter had promised to take care of her until she didn't want him anymore.