When Aunt May introduced me to Mary Jane Watson, I did my best to stay calm. But inside? I was freaking out.
She stood in the doorway of her house across the street, her red hair still damp from a shower, wearing casual shorts and a hoodie. And she was stunning.
"Peter, meet Mary Jane," Aunt May said with a knowing smile.
MJ gave me a small wave. "Hey, Tiger."
I nearly choked on my own spit. Tiger? Already?! I cleared my throat, playing it cool. "Hey, MJ. Nice to meet you."
Her green eyes studied me for a moment. "Nice glasses."
I blinked, reaching up and adjusting them. Right. Peter Parker, certified nerd. I laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, uh… they help me see… better." Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
Aunt May and Mrs. Watson exchanged a few pleasantries before MJ invited me inside. The house smelled like fresh coffee and something floral. "So, Peter," she said, leading me to the living room, "Aunt Anna tells me you're some kind of science whiz."
I shrugged. "I dabble."
Truthfully, I now understood physics on a level that scared me. Peter's brain was like an overclocked supercomputer, and I hadn't even scratched the surface of its full potential.
MJ grinned, flopping down onto the couch. "So, are you gonna help me catch up on schoolwork, or are you just here to impress me with your dabbling?"
I smirked. "Why not both?"
We spent the next hour going through some of her textbooks. I showed her a few shortcuts for chemistry, but my mind was elsewhere—specifically on my new abilities.
My senses were on overdrive. I could hear the faintest creak of the house settling, smell the detergent in her clothes, and feel the subtle vibration of the TV in the next room. It was overwhelming, but I was slowly getting used to it.
MJ, however, was a distraction I hadn't anticipated. Every time she smiled, I found myself staring a little too long.
"Earth to Parker?" she waved a hand in front of my face. "You okay? You spaced out."
I shook my head. "Yeah, sorry. Just tired, I guess."
When I finally left, I had a lot on my mind. As I stepped into my room, I locked the door and took a deep breath. It was time to put my powers to the test.
I stretched out my hand and focused on my fingertips. The ridges I had seen earlier began to extend slightly, reacting to the walls around me. Slowly, cautiously, I pressed my hand to the wall—and climbed.
"Holy crap," I whispered as I scaled the entire wall and hung upside down from the ceiling.
It was incredible. My balance, reflexes—everything felt fine-tuned, instinctual. I let go, landing gracefully on my feet.
But climbing walls was just the beginning.
I pulled out Peter's old wristwatches from his desk drawer, popping them open to inspect the internal mechanics. If I was going to do this, I needed web-shooters.
Three days later.
My room was a mess of chemistry textbooks, mechanical parts, and random gadgets. I had been working nonstop, using Peter's knowledge to develop a basic web formula. It wasn't easy, but after several failed attempts (and one very sticky incident that nearly trapped me to the ceiling), I finally had a working prototype.
"Okay," I muttered, strapping the web-shooters to my wrists. I filled them with the web fluid, a thick, viscous substance that solidified when exposed to air. "Moment of truth."
I aimed at the wall and pressed the trigger.
THWIP!
A web shot out, sticking firmly to the ceiling. I gave it an experimental tug. It held.
"Holy shit, it works!"
Excitement surged through me. I pulled on the web, swinging forward—only to slam into the bookshelf with a loud crash.
"Ow…" I groaned, rubbing my head. Okay, so maybe it would take a little practice.
The next night, I took it outside.
Dressed in a red hoodie, black jeans, and a ski mask, I climbed to the roof of my house. My heart pounded. This was it—the moment I'd been waiting for.
I took a deep breath, aimed my web-shooter at the nearest streetlight, and fired.
THWIP!
The web stuck, and before I could second-guess myself, I jumped off the roof. The wind whipped past me, and I swung forward in a wide arc.
"Ohhh crap!"
I barely managed to land on the next rooftop, rolling to a stop. I couldn't help it—I laughed. "I can't believe that worked!"
I practiced for the next hour, swinging from building to building. It wasn't perfect—I crashed into a few walls, nearly fell face-first into a dumpster, and had to dodge a flock of pigeons—but it was exhilarating.
I was starting to get the hang of it.
But then reality hit.
As I perched on the edge of a rooftop, staring down at the streets of Queens, I realized something. Swinging around was fun, but being a hero? That was another thing entirely.
A car alarm blared down below, and I saw a couple of thugs breaking into a sedan. My instincts screamed at me to intervene, but doubt crept in.
Was I really ready for this?
I could stay safe. Be Peter Parker, science nerd, and not risk my life. But then I remembered MJ's words from earlier—"If they don't do it, who will?"
With a sigh, I jumped down from the rooftop, landing in the alley behind the thieves. "Hey, fellas," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Need help with that?"
The two thugs spun around, their eyes wide in surprise.
"What the—"
Before they could react, I shot out a web, pinning one to the car door. The other lunged at me, but my reflexes kicked in. I dodged easily and hit him with a right hook that sent him sprawling.
"Holy crap," I whispered, staring at my fist. "I'm strong."
Sirens echoed in the distance, and I decided to make a quick exit, swinging away before the cops arrived.
As I landed safely on my rooftop, heart pounding, I grinned.
I had just stopped my first crime.
Maybe this hero thing wasn't such a bad idea after all.
To Be Continued…